I have loved order since childhood. It makes it easier to breathe and to get your thoughts together.
MY mental art vs street art
As I thought because I am a creative person, I always hated maintaining order. If the apartment was being cleaned and I was instructed to clean up the scattered toys in my room, then it was torture.
Later I developed an attitude to chaos in my room, calling it “creative disorder” and life improved a little. That’s how I connect now art and mental illness:
Previously, I thought that I can work with creative arts only if I am in a good mood, but if I was, for example, tired, exhausted, or even sad, it was almost impossible. Now, I understand my mental health doesn’t depend on my mood, as sometimes creative people think.
For example, right now we live in the time of the Pandemic. But what if a famous artist had an exhibition when the Pandemic started, should it be canceled? Should we wait for a better time? I don’t wish to cut my ear like Vincent Van Gogh at the end of my life. Waiting for art galleries to open can be excruciatingly boring
An artist said one day: “I would rather die of passion than of boredom.” What’s the point of dying of bad moods?
During the pandemic, the artist participated in exhibitions (all safety measures respected), which made it possible for her to keep practicing art regardless.
The development of parallel reality in everyday life as a mechanism of self-identification and an attempt to impart meaning to seemingly disparate oscillations.
In my exhibition “Home sweet home”, context develops like a Gaussian curve, evolves and transforms in the contradictory metanarrative of enjoying everyday life as an artist’s priority resource.
In my exhibition “Home sweet home”, context develops like a Gaussian curve, evolves and transforms in the contradictory metanarrative of enjoying everyday life as an artist’s priority resource.
I also love boxes of all kinds. Big and small. The illusion that if you put everything in boxes, you can create order. But entropy is such a beast that it can never exist in a confined space, always trying to break out.
Nevertheless, I still suffer from a lack of control over my life. A chair with a bunch of clothes is an invariable attribute of my everyday space. This is another attempt at control. Many people say, relax and live for your pleasure. But it doesn’t work. The thought that you will not be on time somewhere, that you will not do something, you will not meet someone in time, it’s killing me. Killing my time, poisoning the existence.
Since childhood, I have been fond of collecting things: coins, stamps, stones, colored glass, postcards, buttons, candy wrappers, empty bubbles, and much more. Thinking about the reasons for this, I am surprised and somewhat envious of some of my acquaintances, who, like in interior design magazines, do not have a single superfluous thing in their apartments and everything is in place. One friend of mine once a year throws out all the knick-knacks and practically all the clothes from the apartment – this is what she calls a “reset”. When I started studying in British High School of Art and Design (BHSAD), around me I found a lot of similar collectors of all sorts of things, who do not like and sometimes just suffer from the fact that you have to throw away high-quality packaging or a thing that has not been used for a whole year. Moreover, they gladly replenish their collections from a trash can or just when walking down the street. No – these are not homeless people, they are contemporary artists.
So, while exploring my passion for collecting, I stumbled upon the idea: after collecting a collection and organizing its objects, I try to create islands of control, clarity, systematization, and, as a result, security in the chaos of life, where I can get satisfaction, the illusion of order in my life.
Naturally, I am fascinated by the movement of a mass of uniform objects, Waves on the sea, the flight of a large flock of birds, a ball of swarming bees, the rotation of a fish school underwater. I am trying to find some patterns and order in them. So, placing a found object into melted resin, covering a banana with copper, turning food into art, I achieve control over its existence or death, realizing the “physical impossibility of death in the mind of a living person.”
Among my inspirations in the world of contemporary art are famous artists Damien Hirst and Yaoi Kusama. I guess they, too, are trying to control their lives by drawing endless circles.
According to the article about the British artist Damien Hirst's artworks, he is “the perfect artist for the pandemic, encapsulating the sterility, isolation, and obsession with death of these times.”
