Circumstances do not define you but cheese off.
I mean the place where you were born, and other labels included in your package (that you had not even ordered!). Anyway, in this freestyle essay I’d like to share one of my personal collage series. A painful and disturbing one.
Ok, you were born, what’s next? How do you build up your identity? Keep in mind the frame, you were put in immediately (gladly, not a physical cage but the force that affects you is still enormous), so, where are we? Ah, the lottery! You won, for sure, you are alive, but the butt is also here. How do you find the way out, which is your own, the freedom to commit mistakes? What are the references?
In my practice I play (it is an adult game, babe) with pieces from past and nonexistence, bits of identity and the stinging acid of life. During my eternal study period I was touched by several media, had affairs with graphic design, and almost made a commitment to photography. However, collage was always there since the childhood addiction to destroy, oh, sorry, recreate! Once, desperate curiosity mixed with the cynical melancholy I had cravings to rip and tear! Collage is not the only way of expression, it’s more professional one and I still have lousy poems and painting to please my other sub-identities (visual artist is already quite a title itself and I have confining goose-bumps when called a collage artist)! So far I compose only manually, spontaneously and regularly. Collage technique is relatively fast to create and influence. It satisfies my rage for the result and allows me to comment on the languid drifting monotony of life and contribute to a vaccination from apathy! Do the math – how many hours do you need to find the right piece from all printed media you are surrounded by and then combine it with at least one other piece (it is “the less is more” case), then glue, scan and edit the picture. For the visual poetry I use another mixed media approach, but it is also time consuming, I recombine until it fits my gut. Drastically recycling the patterns I’m sweating to give them the relevant meaning.
I’ve been living at one place for not more than three month for the last 3 years and the first question I am asked is always the easiest one. Why do people want to wrap the person they meet in stereotypes to create a choking conversation? Hey, how about the values or favorite color? I guess, the holy mosquito infected me with the meaningfulness when I was hiding in the cabbage and I gravitate to the meaningful actions ever since. Well, when it comes to my selfhood I prefer to reach the knowledge and not to stick to a beslaver tradition that might be outdated or cruel. I don’t define myself as a woman of some nationality; I feel more like a research neuron that is disturbed by sugar, alcohol and flesh.
Let me share a little fairy tale:
N.1: “Once upon a time LITA – Life Is Torturing Awesome – was born somewhere on the Earth. After a while being with humans, she was fed up with the question of her origin and further stereotypical remarks. From her perverted and shiny point of view, she realized that acceptance and magic beans are the only help. She can’t digest beans, so here we are – LITA used her witty observational power and made illustrations for her own peace!”
The series is about identity. What do you belong to? What are you proud of?
You know, these artists are just bothered by everything, always unsettled.
I would recommend a beerburger or consumption sickness to cure all the existential thoughts. If you are still here – could you tell me what you feel represented by? Not what you represent, but by what in your environment represents you? Can you be envisioned through the prism of an icon or the leader of your country?
Do you have any idea about a piece of land under the label ‘Russia’? Good for you (whatever your answer is). Despite all the philosophy crap, the person can’t evolve in the environment of limited experience and, when it’s come to my place of origin, I must admit it’s a miraculous land. Find it on a map and you’ll see the resources, although no one knows why people suffer for ages there! I suppose it is something to do with the passion for life (read struggle, addiction to rush acts and regret hangover). I cannot call this unorganized generosity a civilized country – it’s more like an Apocalypse rehearsal in a wild circus. If you need a challenge – go for it! This series is my way to point out the illness (that is also prohibited in Russia now and you’d better swallow your opinion to be safe, seriously).
‘Power of Identity’ is one of my personal series, which simultaneously illustrates Russian leadership. It is just the right time to be concerned with yourself, but we were born into an environment as well, right? Let us not ignore it. This series is my temporal comment decorated with folklore garnish for the hurtful and fluid reality.
Our fairy tale continues:
N.2: “Russia is a great country! A dreamy land! Its inhabitants feature inherent spiritual and physical strength, but there are also bogatyrs among them! Traditionally, the legends glorify only three bogatyrs, but there is the fourth! Few people dare to discuss him, as he is mighty and authoritative! Ladamir Utin! The hero is sagacious and brave, assumes a likeness of various appearances and has become a part of the folklore long time ago. Traveling across the chapters of history, he keeps a sharp eye on demons, flies like an eagle and detects deviltry from far off! Big-hearted and benign, he is like a father for his countrymen! All wealth is in his possession, whilst the animal kingdom army stands up for him! Meet and admire!”
In case you have magic beans or for worthwhile collaboration, find the storyteller here.