18.10.19

Artwork

Department of Fine Art

Blanche & Romie Shapiro

Fine Art 2019, Graduate Exhibitions
Naaiem Madah, .
, 2019, Fourth Year, Fine Arts

My home floods me with longing every time I return to it and at the same time, throws me into a vacuum of alienation; It is a house, not a home. The gaze wanders and decides to stay there, it wants to be with the objects, in the small details, its stays, every time anew, waiting, sinking and forgetting.
The place and the various appearances are mundane, but they hover and float in the expanses of consciousness that are constantly looking for a land to rest upon.

The sequence of time and the consciousness are interrupted and transformed into fragmentations, a feeling similar to that of the dreamer, a dreamlike consciousness changes without a fixed relationship, one moment is added and another - extracted. That's what there is now .... that's all there is; A sea of fragments, and inside it a Mother's shoulder turns into a pillow.

She, Mom ... I mean home, always calls me back. Mother repeatedly calls "Come on, please, come back to us" and I always wonder what is this “us” that she’s talking about. Maybe she does not understand that it's always difficult to return to starting points, they distance themselves from me, from their moment of birth, from their place. I change. The house, the people around it, and perhaps its geographic boundaries will soon change as well.
The gaze is wide open, observing and searching for that place, and once again it is blocked by the appearance of some object. I wonder about the meaning of the home, about the language which shaped it and seems to be slowly shrinking and collapsing on itself, within me, within the local space; And loses its meaning over time.

Naaiem Madah
Fourth Year
.
2019