Artist Book
Publisher: Zilberman Gallery 2019
Surrounded by the demise of tranquillity, the effort to pronounce a whispered melody radiates dimly into my void. All that I am able to hear resolves into a high-pitched melody ringing in my mismatched ears. But there is still something out there trying to accompany the never-ending asynchronous rhythm. Unaware of the simplicity of the recursive incident, my perception floats gently into the thin air as a faint shadow reflected
on a sidewalk. Out of the blue, some bold shadow starts to crumble into pieces of grains proliferating with designated appearances. Despite all the irregularities observed, familiarity is still dissident. One after the other, all of the minuscule pieces start forming the anatomy of a sudden explosion with vicinal lines branching off in between several distinctive locations.
So true that one would suffer so hard to find any resemblance of nuance, and the distancing into the scene complements all kinds of ignorance. Nevertheless, it is we who blind our very own eyes to avoid any concession to irritation or shame. The disturbance is unavoidable. The mind plays tricks on us, assuring its endurance for inevitable exhaustion. Where should one hide? Or is there any place left to seek? Perhaps it is best
to surrender to the scent of the breeze. Let it flow, dissolve into your bones, reflecting from your skin to the naked earth. Then you will be left alone with a reticence that you have long been waiting for.
Arbitrariness is not unintentional. Unattained opportunities remain consolidated even when they are ignored completely. A mind-boggling flash of light reaches its destination unless it is directed unintentionally. Otherwise, its shapeshifts into deep underwater darkness. There you become boundary-less and all the metrics dissolve into a unique pattern. Repetition disintegrates arbitrariness into its constituents. Minute details envelop the sense of singularity