(mixed media installation, Oskar Cepan Award 2011)

…very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel

“Laziness is the absence of movement and thought, dumb time - total amnesia. It is also indifference, staring at nothing, non-activity, impotence. It is sheer stupidity, a time of pain, futile concentration. Those virtues of laziness are important factors in art. Knowing about laziness is not enough, it must be practiced and perfected.”
(from “The Praise of Laziness”, Mladen Stilinović)

Sometimes there are these dull months when you cease to create anything. This is not an effect of your own decision, it just happens as ineffectiveness, yet with a strange quality to it. These are the months of non-productive passive time, nevertheless it is not vain. You have to struggle through it, paradoxically, to put things forward.
But, while being there you can do no more than stare at your own state of idleness. It is like observing something that happens without you, being distant and still fully present in it, damn suffering. It feels "very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo."*
Here I am facing my essential condition, time itself, and its own uncanny pace. Only later do I start to sense the inherent ambiguity: it is simultaneously a constrictive and deliberating state of mind. Deadlines, inner and outer expectations, fears, reasons, excuses and decisions leave no impression on the glossy surface of this tedious indifference.
It is me and the time of the sculpture, whose author and year had been forgotten, me preoccupied with the trivial scene at Berlin Biennale.
This work - constellation talks pragmatically about the real amount of time given for its production – the time of challenge and expectations, and romantically about its parallel, the time wasted and struggled through without ambition, time spent with secret fascinations and inner conflict, and the possibility of escape, the possibility to truly relate to one’s own presence.
Below the surface this work also deals with the memory of the exhibition space – as an (after) antidote to the former boosting progress and ceaseless production.

*Sylvia Plath: The Bell Jar, p. 2-3

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