The project “Carrying, Caring” started from seeking an answer to the meaning of I. I might speak different languages. I am the I, as well as the Other. We swim between both terms. 

Life begins in the suffering of the Mother embracing her child. The Mother sacrifices herself to push the partially-formed Other inside her womb out into the separation of the world. Suffering is something we inevitably encounter as soon as we are born into the world. Mother is a particular type of the Other. In her womb, the I and she were two, yet not separated – they were as one. 

Two figures are carrying each other. They are enduring the weight in time – the weight of one’s weight and the Other’s. Nobody taught the I how to do it, but the I instantly knew from its body how to hold and care for the Other. Their gestures assume a closed form. It is a form of bonding the Other with the I’s body by maintaining physical contact as close as possible so that the Other does not fall from the I. The I cannot stand still. The I’s hands and legs are shaking. The Other’s shoulders are pressed by the weight of the Other – the suffering caused by the weight – that is, the pain caused by and for the Other / the I – for us. They do not frown because this suffering no longer comes to them with the term suffering. This is not suffering; it is love. They are just bearing. Their bodies are a part of passing the time. We are time’s vessels.

By carrying and caring for the Other – being for the Other – the I is able to secure oneself and, at the same time, is able to secure the Other. It is a process of confirming not one, but two, by forgetting oneself, forgetting one’s weight, and taking the Other’s weight.