There is War

                                          In the Fire


                                    In This World

Inside the World

                                Black Sun 

                                Tree Girl

                                The First Time 

                                The Crual Game 



                                          Rebel Girls

                                There Will Be Change

                                          In the Zone

                                    detail Subordinate


                                Rebel Girls

From my exhibition at Olle Nymans Ateljé in 2016 
Text by Chimuk  performance artist - curator 

There Will Be Change
So what if there is no title, some narration can unfold with the idea like the verse of blankness with the longest pause. I know I was here before with so many various titles and suggestions and most of them are either dull or very dark like a profound humor.

So what if I'm giving a durational moment to myself as a gift to understand the reality. It enlightens me with the idea inside of the gloomy forest who is approaching me the ideal way of twisting and I think "there is no need to be woken up with an unpleasant dream, my canvas became so dry and my finger turns into desert….”. My hands are twisted like the complex brush stroke and I start believing that, so what if I have an ‘untitled’ title but I know There Will Be Change(in thoughts).

So what if I wandered and my roses in a distance like hundred yards from my studio turn into black and then grey, my eyes closed and other sensation starts reacting faster than ever- so what if it's an ‘untitled’ title but I know …..(in thoughts).

Last few decades they came in my blank canvas and jumped one after another.     I am like helpless; this one imagination changes the idea of my own perception of null and void. I called my imagination as perpendicular momentum and every time I finished one painting I start believing that after this if apocalypse turns on at least I will get a little relax that my utopian world will be more secure from the nervous journey or such as like from hidden tension. Do you know my canvases are always haunting me for its surprise ending with the uncertain line but still I feel it is painfully beautiful as always.

Every line has an unseen childhood; every line crossed through hurdles  of its own. Sometimes I am re-questioning my own lines in a strange way and think "how come every time I draw the same line but why there is same quantity of pain surrounding my canvas and touch me very dark way - o mighty I feel every time so helpless to recover from that subtle zone" I know these chronics of memory, I know the tendency of making hide and clues. All though I haven't figured out how to string them together yet, but I've begun to notice that some icon or some motives have always come through hard brushes like over and over again. For instance lines of partition, lines of humanity, lines of disorder, lines of patriarchy and I think if it is like this so what if there is an ‘untitled’ title with conditional memory- because I know there will be change.

Did I tell you yet how many years I was living together with all those mysterious lines when you asked me ‘why I never leave for new destinations`, I always prefer to maintain silent with not so many good reasons, I didn't know where to begin. This silence filled with promises to stay in touch, stand as evidence of the mundanity. I agree that my utopia is pretty heavy and hope you won't get uncomfortable if I should go into some deeper belongings here in my words.

All this new drawing evolve and I will eventually give new feelings that will never completely displace the old ones but within a period of time, everything goes into previous old quite edgy zone and then spirit split again into two-three-for-eight-ten-more. So what if there is no title- some narration can start with the idea of the blank with the pause. I'm watching my drawing just before I will  be going to hang for you, my nightmares will come like a form of my loyal viewer and they will express their deepest feelings and I am trying to imagine what is best to understand the moment of the beast, the meadow. Are these paintings still belonging to me? Trust me some drawing can frame with an ‘untitled’ title.

I'm just letting the day be what it is, I'm just letting the night be what it is and it is a reality for real things in a psychedelic way. I can't trust the accuracy of my own memories, many of them having blended with sentimental and marginal sensation. I walked out finally from the white space, leave them behind with my expression which looks very positive today, today is the day of my opening and it would be easier to explain this now when I more understood that there is a fallacy to make anything just be a beautiful, neither my titled dull or sophisticated. You see, the mind has a potential to hold one thought at a time and in reverse at a time it can  be motivated and forget parallelly side by side various thoughts. So promise to that omnipotent thought and moment which is creator of my journey, with that serious note let’s celebrate the amnesia of voice of everything and listen to my painting like a weeping reflection, “so what if I had ‘untitled’ title, but there will be change…..


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