PRESENT ABSENCE

the beautiful things have disappeared, the public did not want to keep them.

what ever went away..

"you have been dead for so long...

wonder what keeps you standing.

still now. standing.

proudly. arrogant.

ever so empty."

                                31 March 2009

.. when I met you, you were all broken, not many could tell
it wasn't easy to see,

you tried breaking the walls I had built around myself,
perhaps testing if you could in the end come out from the ones you were then building...

I remember having thought that you had been so hurt that you had to build yourself an actual armor...
is kinda funny it was me the one helping making it..
at it was so tiring and in a way painful

it was in a time when there was nothing left of my own walls,
and I was so exposed to my pain it was difficult to stay standing..

but everybody looked just like their reflections..

"and so here I am
talking in a empty room
listening to my own voices
their echoes

inside this nothingness, the silence

many lifes have been left behind
and I've been left modeling the shape of my memories

you were always a better person
...before you got lost in darkness

in any case. I'm this container. of you. and all your faces.
let me dig a little deeper. i almost find you.

and sometimes i wonder if I'm digging to rescue or to bury you inside my many journeys
the real and the remembered ones

what will be left of me if you dissapear?
if there is no memory, emotions is what will be left.. perhaps
is that how I ended up being so full of them?

how did i get here, this empty room
will I be able to understand?
no-one to ask ... only this voices, the echos

and when it all will be finally gone

I will make you with my bare hands

out side
I guess I will always be a stranger"

                                           28 March 2009

Humans

"...you were always weird but i never had to hold you by the edges like I do now.."

who I am.. my identity.. my name and my background.. my parents. my school teachers.

this is who I am. this promise. an educated girl like me. is got a life promised. a good life awaiting. a dog and a back garden to look after when I retired.

anything you want is there for you to take... your dreams... what do you want to do when you grow up?

happy people know this. they are prisoners of their intricate constructions. they know they cant stop being certain that this is what they want or it all will collapse before their eyes...

I have work so hard for you baby, so you can have it all... all you ever wanted, the dog and the back garden...

this is who I am ... a reminder of your broken promises ...

they don't like to be reminded this is not what they ever wanted.

and I refuse the spectacle, I wont reproduce to eternity... may be, may be next time I will be a better person, may be next time I'll be happy

not humans left... only broken promises


 

trolebus, recreated memories

photo taken by margoux

does your memory stray to a bright summer day?

Visible-Invisible

Screen-print on magazine

Remember when we used to play?

Bang Bang, screen-print on magazine


I hit the ground, (detail) screen-print on magazine


Horses made of stick, screen-print on magazine


that awful sound, Bang Bang... after Richter

hell is other people

Self consciousness needs "the Other" to prove (display) its own existence. It has a "masochistic desire" to be limited by the reflective consciousness of another subject.


and that is what you see in me. your echoes, your reflections.

there was nothing left of her but her voice.

Baustraße

there is no remedy for bad startings,
and new beginnings are only stuborness

perfect moments

no address where to send any more postcards.

there will be no loose stones

if you ever come back

all you will find...

are the ruins of my waiting..








well, i've been dragged all over the place
i've taken hits time just don't erase

to suggest

'To name an object is to suppress three-fourths of the enjoyment of the poem, which is composed of the pleasure guessing little by little: to suggest... there is the dream'

Work in Progress Exhibition

This piece is about questioning the use and perception of space, the public and the private, the personal and the impersonal.

It is composed of two site based installations. The first one took place in Richmond Park, where by bringing elements that evoked personal use and private property as well as the idea of warmth and personal identity, I intended to accentuate the uses of public spaces as extensions of our personal space. The need to belong to a place, a territory.



The second one was in at the Crypt Gallery. Here I brought some of the branches I found during the first installation, I wanted to bring the out-door indoors and with this underline the levels of public and accessibility. The branches were suspended and joined only by their shadows which were mimicked with soil, a trail that reminded where they came from, what they are no longer. Dead and alive, present and absent, past and present. time and space.

photo by George Hurst

photo by James and Varvara, taken from their blog


thank you for all the people who came, it was full! how exciting... unfortunately my pictures were terrible,  if you wanna  have a look at some of the others exhibiters  george's site  is got a really  nice documentation... make sure you have a look at the rest of his work, you'll love it!

Flyer by Erica Dorn

homesick

colour testing

colour testing

broken rituals