It's just liquid.

installation (space of 20 m2).

media: ceramics, drawings

When I was in the first year of school, my classmate cut himself badly. Red blood gushed from his hand like a fountain onto his bag and desk. While the teacher bandaged the wound, the children laughed. So as not to stand out, I laughed too. Then my eyes went black and I fainted. Waking up from a faint is always unpleasant, then I felt it for the first time, now I know it by heart.

I go to the clinic with the clear knowledge that today I'm in for another DARK thing - a collision with the red liquid inside, a sharp needle invading my body, and then darkness, the smell of ammonia, waking up, fever, cold sweat, pale lips, stunned stares.

"How can you faint from blood? You're a girl, it's unnatural."

I'm afraid of the veins on my arms, I'm afraid of the veins on my legs, I'm afraid of the dark red liquid inside them, I'm afraid of cuts, I'm afraid of not being able to give first aid, I'm afraid of giving birth, I'm afraid of bullet wounds, I'm afraid of bloody scenes in movies, I'm afraid of passing out again. I'm afraid to talk about it.

It's a part of me. I immerse myself in it gradually, studying it, looking at it. I paint my fear, I sculpt it. I do it to know it better, to stop being afraid.

It is just a liquid.

2021