Vlažne maramice, make-up, kabel, žarulja, aluminijske šipke, sajla, konac

Wet wipes, make-up, electric cable, light bulb, aluminum rods, metal cable, thread

Svaki izlazak sačuvan je na netkanoj vlažnoj maramici, sušenoj, prešanoj i potom spojenoj u patchwork dug 1900 i širok 150cm. Ta bala materijala, kao i svaka odbačena plahta, konstruirana je u šator u zatvorenom promijenjivih dimenzija. Projekt je započet u Zagrebu 2010. godine i realiziran u sklopu rezidencije u galeriji Singular u Puli na jesen 2015. godine.

Every outing is kept on non-wowen wet wipe, dried, pressed and sewn into a patchwork 1900cm long 150cm wide. That bundle of material, like every tossed away sheet, is constructed into an interior tent with variable dimensions. Project commenced in Zagreb 2010. and finished during an artist residency autumn 2015. in Singular gallery in Pula, Croatia.

Ne biti doma

Bijeg iz grada, iz kućne galame u šire poglede, izgledao je finalno obećavajuće. Tome je doprinijela nabrijanost i želja za stvaranjem vođena odobravanjem meni za razvoj važnih ljudi. Svaka nova prilika izvan sunčane Pule trebala je biti duboka, iskrena i zdrava. Naravno da je grad koji me nužno prihvatio imao skroz drugi način, predgrađe i derutne kišne dane popratila su uobičajena plakanja u sobi u prizemlju. Tko nije plakao, laže. Trud je bio primaran, zainteresiranost i činjenica da sam htjela sve što postoji biti i djelovati, ali sve je dostavljeno u prazno, bez odgovora. Svi afiniteti postaju nebitni kad "da, to stvarno tako funkcionira" i "ali ja smatram da je to nazadno", kad postoji nezainteresirana blokada. Zato smo izlazili, ispoljavali maksimalno srca i noge, svaka stvar radi čiste savjesti morala je imati svrhu duha tog trenutka. U nedostatku praktičnog djelovanja, svoj studij u Zagrebu preselila sam u svoju sobu koja otpočinje kao intenzivno traženje i završava kao nepromjenjiva suština mog postojanja. Treba mi miris od doma.

Svaka nova soba ima moju staru sobu

Otisci na maramicama naznačavaju onaj apstraktni svijet vani. Ono s čime izlazim vraća se promijenjeno, umanjeno; dio ostaje na boci, čaši, umivaoniku, na nekome, a ostatak se vraća plohi i postaje medij, zapis, print.

Not Being Home

Escape from the city, away from the household noise to broader horizons, seemed finally promising, backed by eagerness and desire to create driven by the approval of people I deem important for my development. Every new opportunity outside the sunny Pula was supposed to be profound, sincere and healthy. Naturally, the city that had to take me had an entirely different disposition, the suburbs and the dismayed rainy days were accompanied by usual sobbing in the ground floor room. Whoever says they didn’t cry is a liar. Effort came first, my interest and the fact that I wanted to be everything and act, but it was all delivered in vain, without an answer. All the inclinations become unimportant when ‘yes, it really works that way’ and ‘but I think this is regressive’, when there is an uninterested blockage. That’s why we went out, we put our hearts and our feet out to the max, everything had to have a purpose of the spirit of the moment, for a clear conscience. Due to a lack of practice, I moved my Zagreb studies to my room, which began as an intense quest and ended as the unchanged essence of my existence. I need the smell of home.

Every new room has my old room.

Tissue prints signal the abstract world outside. What I go out with comes back changed, diminished; pieces of it are left on a bottle, on a sink, on someone else, and the rest comes back on a surface and becomes a medium, a record, a print.

Special thanks to SofijaSilvia and Ilija Ilia Smiljanić

All the photos belong to Singular gallery, 2015.