I want to rot
May 2025
Life as such never ends. When one dies, another is born from its remains. It should be noted that the "another" cannot be born if the "one" does not die. It is impossible to plant tulips in a flower bed if there are roses growing in it already. To plant tulips, you need to cut the roses.
Therefore, life does not exist without death. And death is only a transition to a new level of life. The transformation of matter is not its end. Energy does not just disappear from this world. What we are made of will forever remain in the universe, scattered throughout its boundless spaces after our organic body decomposes.
Death is a topic I had to rework my approach towards after the full-scale invasion. Seeing it as a catalyzer towards next step of life, a transformative process enacting rebirth was the purpose of the project.
While the organic matter is dying, the mold is growing and coming to life. It feeds on the dying body, so birth and death happen simultaneously, being united by the transformative nature of the matter.
Я хочу згнити.
Я кладу своє тіло у вологий ґрунт і поливаю.
Моє тіло поглинається дощовими черв‘яками та бактеріями.
Мої скручені поламані довгі руки замерли в конвульсіях.
Мої ноги від’єднуються від тіла і їх з‘їдають хижаки.Мої нутрощі розкладаються, а шкіра роздувається від газів щоб невдовзі здутися. Мої очі витікають з черепа поки морщиться та стискається мій висушений епідерміс.
Мої кістки крошаться, а з тріщин починають вилазити паростки.
Мої легені заростають мохом і я перестаю дихати.
Мої м‘язи слабкішають щоб дати змогу траві рости крізь дірки від куль.Моє тіло тепер належить всім тим, хто знайшов у ньому дім.
Моє тіло гниє.
Моє тіло більше не моє
Я кладу своє тіло у вологий ґрунт і поливаю.
Моє тіло поглинається дощовими черв‘яками та бактеріями.
Мої скручені поламані довгі руки замерли в конвульсіях.
Мої ноги від’єднуються від тіла і їх з‘їдають хижаки.Мої нутрощі розкладаються, а шкіра роздувається від газів щоб невдовзі здутися. Мої очі витікають з черепа поки морщиться та стискається мій висушений епідерміс.
Мої кістки крошаться, а з тріщин починають вилазити паростки.
Мої легені заростають мохом і я перестаю дихати.
Мої м‘язи слабкішають щоб дати змогу траві рости крізь дірки від куль.Моє тіло тепер належить всім тим, хто знайшов у ньому дім.
Моє тіло гниє.
Моє тіло більше не моє
\
I want to rot.
I put my body in moist soil and water it.
My body is being consumed by earthworms and bacteria.
My twisted, broken, long arms froze in convulsions.
My legs are detaching from my body and getting eaten by predators.
My guts are decomposing, and my skin is puffing up with gas, only to deflate soon after.
My eyes bulge out of my skull as my parched epidermis shrivels and contracts.
My bones are crumbling, and sprouts are starting to come out of the cracks.
My lungs are getting covered with moss as I stop breathing.
My muscles are weakening to allow grass to grow through the bullet holes in my chest.
My body now belongs to all those who have found a home in it.
My body is rotting.
My body is no longer mine.
I put my body in moist soil and water it.
My body is being consumed by earthworms and bacteria.
My twisted, broken, long arms froze in convulsions.
My legs are detaching from my body and getting eaten by predators.
My guts are decomposing, and my skin is puffing up with gas, only to deflate soon after.
My eyes bulge out of my skull as my parched epidermis shrivels and contracts.
My bones are crumbling, and sprouts are starting to come out of the cracks.
My lungs are getting covered with moss as I stop breathing.
My muscles are weakening to allow grass to grow through the bullet holes in my chest.
My body now belongs to all those who have found a home in it.
My body is rotting.
My body is no longer mine.
Ubiquitous mold created a specific sensorial atmosphere by releasing its spores into the air. One of the bread sculptures cultivated black mold on its surface --- it was especially dangerous to inhale its particles.
My mother, who has seen a lot of death and despair during her military service, once told me that a human cannot stare long into two things in this world: the sun and death.
I thought about it within the context of this exhibition -- if I want to represent the transformative process of death, grief, despair, out of which blooms something new, then maybe I can highlight how we, as humans, have limited emotional capacity and to process the horrors of such global events as war we have to do it bit by bit, by placing a health hazard into the room.
Visitors were provided with respirators.
Decomposition
The work ultimately never had a finished state. I did not fire the clay sculptures to showcase the ephemerality of organic life forms. We exist in constant exchange with our environment -- every stage of the life-death cycle is transitory. Some art, as a mirror of such processes, is especially auto-destructive.
Sculptures were taken outside and left to the mercy of nature and erosion.