POLYETHYLENE, PEARLS, SHELLS, COTTON THREADS, GLASS BEADS, PAPER, WOOL
33 x 40 х 15 cm
Our time is floating on the bones. This boat is filled with days: 3037, 3038, 3039… How many more does it need to become overfilled? So that this time and this blood would spill over the edge? Sacrificed to which god? I’m scared to know the answer. The cup is filled from the first drop – February 20, 2014*. This is the very day when everything has been already decided, but for me it was just the beginning. Politics and war came through, my adulting started. While I am writing the dates, I recall different events that took place back then, but in broad strokes. That year there was such-and-such exhibition, and that autumn relocation happened, and that month the wedding happened. And there was already a war going on. This month it started, and this week there were battles in such-and-such city, and on this day there was such-and-such person killed. Calendar days are rammed down, settling at the bottom of a small boat. The countdown is getting scarier: 3040, 3041, 3042...
* February 20, 2014 is the date of the annexation of Crimea by Russia.