Rites of Oblivion

The wind of change does not always blow in the direction we want. It bends and twists, and the truth bends with the flow. Running from something can be the most direct route to it. In some cases, this process takes decades. But even when everything falls apart, the soul remains. Merged with its root, the soul lives with the legend, the legend that continues to live with us. It holds us and saves us from the visible. Spiritualizing. It finds even the lost. The legend is a prism through which you see what you want to see. Makes sense of your sacrifices and gives courage for what you want to taste. You taste it, and it reminds you that it is just a legend.

According to the ancient Thracians who inhabited the Rhodope Mountain in southern Bulgaria, souls live in the rocks and in the pine trees, from which this work was also made. They created their sanctuaries in places according to these spaces. Nowadays, the creation of spiriutilized objects and spaces continues to be an active practice, illustrating the role of mythological creatures in our perceptions of the world. Like the snake-like Zmey who is being blamed for all kinds of misfortunes. These are artifacts hidden in plain sight. A nervous system with multiple endings leading to the fragments that make it up. Nerves that are necessary to brake the passiveness and the political anesthesia. The stunted senses of the legend. Imagine if we learn how to touch.