FREE NEUTRON

Back in my own turf after exactly 260 days of journey.

Started on the first of October 2024, and yesterday I was finally horizontal in my own room. If you’ve been following my journey, yes, I’m back in my skimpy 3x3 meter-wide room. From Jersey, Channel Islands, to Aberdeen in Scotland, to Paris, to Selangor, and finally to Pattaya in Thailand.

I had a death in the village, a bursting hot water pipe in Malaysia, food poisoning in Paris, was drawn naked in Windsor, and discovered so many sides of myself — and of humanity in general, too. Sometimes it’s embarrassing that, after all this, I’m not even sure if I’ve evolved or changed into a better person. Someone who could make a change in our currently extremely volatile world, for example. I feel like I’m just floating and trying to live, like that one free neutron, not bound to anything.

I feel like I’m just bragging about where I’ve been, and what it was sometimes feels meaningless. On the other hand, all that travel, all those different grounds I stood on (sponsored, of course, I’d never be able to afford them!), are just in the past now.

What’s real is that I’m back in my room again, facing what’s actually in front of me. The moments that have passed are just memory banks now. Maybe I caught some connections along the way, but I keep questioning: Is this the true definition of travel itself?

Why am I not feeling settled about anything at all? Even about my ideas? Maybe I’m constantly moving to find stories? Why am I still alive? What is the grand scheme of it all? The true purpose of me being alive? I’m still questioning.

Here’s a picture from my last day, polished: the last day I was in a room with air conditioning.

I’ll be posting more pictures from the journey soon. But until then, I’m just going to sleep. I’m very, very sorry I’ve been neglecting all the messages that came into my inbox. Now that I’m back, I’ll try to write more.

Nuril Basri © Keanuril Basreeves, 2025; on his last day in an air-conditioned room.

Notes: 

I’ve just completed my residency in Jersey, Channel Islands; a collaborative effort between ArtHouse Jersey and the Moving Arts Collective, with support from the Indonesian Ministry of Culture and Education. After that, I headed to London for a brief residency in DIF in Bristol and a university visit to SOAS.

Then came Aberdeen, Scotland, for the WayWORD Festival. From there, I flew to the land of baguettes for an artist residency at Cité internationale des arts in Paris (supported by the Institut Français d’Indonésie). It was there I began to explore my artistic temperament beyond words: experimenting with visuals through photography and painting.

After three months in France, I moved to Rimbun Dahan in Selangor, Malaysia, to continue my artsy-fartsy hullaballoo. And finally, I landed in Thailand to take photos of whatever caught my eye.

Now, I’m in Indonesia.