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£1400
Dimensions: 100 x 70 x 3.6cm
Medium: Acrylic on Canvas
SHORT STORY: SPRING 2014: AWAY: It was a time of the day that they could only describe as the start. They were a long way away, by the time the plane had touched down. They both felt a sense of belonging when they were in transition and that was always their reason for travelling together. More times than none the landscape was the main deciding factor in setting their mood. Albeit happiness and balance or the harsh positioning of rocks amongst the compacted earth. The sunset was always the start - the orientation of the positioning of their bodies during sleep. When they lied down they wanted to look out, further from their limited space. They wore, their new skin every sunset and shed it at sunrise. In between these times, they were an amorphous and unidentifiable breathing machine. Walking, seating, eating and talking amongst the rest, was an experiment in adaptability The posed question was then, do they fit in or do they step into the circle and set themselves apart. A third option arose, one of them could fit in and adapt and the other could enjoy their freedom. And so this peculiar form of babysitting a group of ‘ airplane friends’ (friendships that are formed at a mode of transportation that include a level of intimacy that is not reflected by the length and depth of the friendship but by the fact that this friendship has a clear expiration date-when you leave the mode of transportation. (As set-up at the scene in the airplane from the movie “Fight Club”, between the narrator and Tyler Durden). Seeking solitude is easy in 3 simple steps, the way you position your self to the sun, the height in which you hold your book, and lastly the type of drink you order. It does not take long to realise that gradually they are dragged in to follow the circle. So they have to leave follow back into their hiding place to wear once more their new skin until sunrise. The juxtaposition of their imagination and the amorphous group, meant that away they could ignore their own reality. Back where they left from a dead fly was on the counter next to the kettle. e.c.vazaka
