Collaboration with Nadiya Petrovska
Concrete, glass, plastic, acrylic, liquid.
Size: 12 x 13 x15 cm
Thanks to the heroic efforts of partisans, special ops fighters and, who would have guessed, Russian invaders, in occupied Kherson it was quite common to drive past a burned-out car of a local collaborator. Under the occupation regime in the city, no one even bothered to clear the debris from the streets. Betrayal is difficult to forgive, it is despised even by those, who encouraged it. After all, you can't trust someone who betrayed you. Unfortunately, we don't even notice how, quite often, we betray ourselves.
In peaceful life, most of us were collaborators. Emotional burnout awaits everyone who drive someone else's road rather than their own: who allow other people to control their lives, emotions, decisions and goals. It often happens that, if not society, then buried long time ago ancestors and parents direct our lives. Everyone has its own route. Along it, behind every true goal we pursue, there is a gas station where we refuel and drive on. False goals leave the tank empty. It's hard to forgive yourself. But we have to make an effort, break through the concrete of childhood traumas and outgrown false beliefs and restore trust, because no one can escape from internal partisans and special ops fighters.
In peaceful life, most of us were collaborators. Emotional burnout awaits everyone who drive someone else's road rather than their own: who allow other people to control their lives, emotions, decisions and goals. It often happens that, if not society, then buried long time ago ancestors and parents direct our lives. Everyone has its own route. Along it, behind every true goal we pursue, there is a gas station where we refuel and drive on. False goals leave the tank empty. It's hard to forgive yourself. But we have to make an effort, break through the concrete of childhood traumas and outgrown false beliefs and restore trust, because no one can escape from internal partisans and special ops fighters.
Series concept
The gift that no one would want to receive.
It is unlikely that anyone in their right mind would want to receive such a gift, but unfortunately, our fate and nervous system do just that and leave us no other choice. War is traumatic. It will end someday, but triggers - certain objects, sounds, and places - will periodically return us to the feelings and states that we experienced and are still experiencing. They settle on the bottom of our psyche like a heavy block of concrete and will lie there as long as they are connected to intense negative emotions and feelings. Until we have rethought the events that have happened and understood what has changed in our personality and values for the better. Until the traumatic memories fit into neat row of blocks in the foundation of the structure that we have not yet become. It is impossible to run away from triggers, they can and should be discharged, before inherited by children.