Red diary

  There’s often this dream I’m having;

   I’m in a car with 3 other people, their faces I don’t know, but somehow we’re connected. A driver starts to insanely accelerate, and we hit a car from the other direction.  We are in the air and I’m seeing and feeling in slow motion. There is no pain but I know we won’t survive.

Dreams are our subconscious diary. I’m experiencing this slow motion hit day by day. In a reality it has a weight and pain, without blood, but strongly striking my mental part. Impossible to express myself and show how much I have to give to society, I remain ignored. With this piece my anxiety is being materialized. I am printing my senses and body parts; ears, lips, hands, legs, eyes, finger tips and nipple tips, sex determined organ, with my blood, to the glass square tiles. In some parts of the body I can get a clean print, but most of them are blurry abstract stains. Small glass prints should stand on a light background so the structure of dried blood could be most visible.

In this piece thoughts are focused on my friends,  young artists unable to be what they really are, unable to show and share this  beautiful energy and potential. To be accepted and appreciated in our small community. I wonder why our society is so emotionally and creatively blind? What I can conclude is a lack of education, starting from elementary school that has reduced visual arts culture to just one shameful hour per week,  to high schools that have History of Art also one hour per week. This is a work in progress, and it can be developed as an action or performance in a gallery or public space, with visitors to participate. Blood is the same organic substance that connects all people, and numbness seems to be a feeling of the time. So I ask myself again, how to indicate need for creative people and stop their internal bleeding?  Maybe in slow motions, with a lot of persistence toward myself and everybody around me.