A flux of coincidences, part 2 Print

As an artist, I navigate the intricate terrain of humanity's pursuit of progress. In a world enamored with effectiveness, efficiency, and functionality, individuals often find themselves ensnared in a relentless loop, where the quest for optimization eclipses the essence of being human. We feverishly chase technological advancements, believing they hold the key to heightened efficiency, yet in this relentless pursuit, we overlook the fundamental truth: it was humanity that sparked this journey, and it is humanity that should remain at its core. I am no stranger to this narrative; I have traversed the spectrum from burnout to depression, grappling with the weight of high-functioning anxiety within this very system. Through my art, I endeavor to disrupt this frenetic rhythm, prompting viewers to pause, to introspect, to reconnect with their emotions and physicality. I want people to stop and think about their feelings, emotions, how their bodies react, ask themselves more often "what am I actually feeling right now? why am I doing this thing now? what am I scared of? what if I try to listen now? what does it mean to me?". The whole life, I believe, is a flux of coincidences, formed by our minds, the power of nature and people around us. It's so fragile, it can be scary, yet beautiful. When things get chaotic, I want us to think about how much control we have in our own lives. Realism isn't just going along with whatever happens; it's about taking charge and making our own path in the midst of life's changes. With my art I want to remind us that the most important changes don't come from technology, but from how we treat ourselves and each other. I want us to slow down and be more thoughtful, listening to our bodies and our feelings. Through this, I aspire to cultivate a world where human rights, safety, and equality reign supreme—a world where progress is not measured by the speed of our stride, but by the depth of our empathy and the richness of our connection.