Febraury 16 through February 28, 2018 – HERE I AM
Artist: Leyla Mahat
OPENING EVENT: Thursday, February 15, 2018, 6:30pm
In the presence of the artist.
DURATION OF THE EXHIBITION: February 16 – February 28, 2018
The older I become, the closer I get to myself. The unnecessary shells are shed. The opinions of others aren’t that important anymore. My essence.. it is still hiding somewhere inside, but it’s not covered in the mess that is common norms and social standards, skewed looks and current trends. What was important is coming back. The significance of a beloved one’s smile. The ability to keep silent, when you don’t want to talk. The bravery to speak out, when someone’s act upsets you. The chance to leave, if you feel the need to be alone. We were all like this at the beginning. During childhood.
Then why are we so perplexed by the attention we give to information that we in reality do not need? The herd instinct and consumerist cravings make us do absurd things. They force us to judge. To rate. To take on someone else’s mask. To forget about ourselves. To try to be like everybody else. And suddenly at some point, sadness arrives. It’s like a breath form the depths within. The Earth is struggling with pain and hardship. We overheated her. We broke her up. She’s sliced up and cut open. Yet we want more. And more. So that it’s cooler what than what the others have. So that there’s a lot of it. We want that, what we don’t actually need. What for? To be like everybody else! What does it bring to you personally? The confidence in having everything correct. But what is “correct”? What everybody else does and has! Following the viscous cycle we run around like crazy rabbits on paramedics. There’s no time to think about how someone somewhere is waiting for you. Wanting to hear your voice. Run through your unruly hair with their hand. Look into your murky eyes, tired from all that nonsense rush. It’s the wiser the greater, who are waiting. Children and the elderly. Those who still haven’t taken on, or have already disposed of, the extra weight. What is left is an inhale. A heavy and bitter, like love, inhale. Leyla Mahat