On the bench
I own a bench on Margaret Island. Of course it isn’t just mine, I share it with other strangers who co-rent it. Whenever I walk that way with a good book of mine under my I speed up and occupy it like old people do when they catch sight of an empty seat on the bus.
My bench is on the eastern side of the island, right on the bank, and overlooks the Újlipótváros district.
After successfully conquering it, I make myself comfortable, pull up my legs and enjoy the solitude and the atmosphere. I read, meditate, gaze at the water, watch the people and listen to the birds – all at the same time.
It is as if I was living time in slow motion, broken down to its basic elements.
This bench to me is the solitude the word ’chapel’ evokes in me, the exclusion of the outside world and the shelter it provides.
A sacred space without walls and a roof, without architecture, without ornaments.
An intimate space in infinity.