On Friday I had a moment, a moment that lasted about couple of hours. I wasn't feeling very well, day before I managed to reignite an old lower back injury so on Friday I couldn't move with ease. I was feeling nervous and tense all day and nothing helped so in late afternoon I decided to embrace my back pain and irritability and pulled out a stack of printer paper and colored inks. I started to spontaneously smack ink on paper in an act I like to ironically call inxorcism, a process of exorcising my inner restlessness by splashing ink around without any plan or purpose other than making myself feeling better. It took me 60 paintings to get tired of the process (and also make a lot of mess). You can see few of those ink messes below arranged in diptychs. As you can tell I also wrote down some random thoughts on some of the pieces in stream-of-conscientiousness manner.
It feels like I lived at least ten different lives within this one and I'm too young to feel this way but I'll probably keep on dying over and over again. "But aren't we all dead in between heartbeats anyway?", he said. "You don't die, you simply change, wax and wane like the Moon. You haven't really died, you just changed shapes- at your core you remained the same."
My body is made of secrets and black ink.
In a dream I saw a white swan and a tiny shark swimming in circles in a tank filled with milk.
In a dream I failed all of my school exams, couldn't learn to read or decypher your math. And I failed to count all the ways I've betrayed myself allowing you to humiliate me.
This was never supposed to be a love letter.