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Last year my world has shrunken due to the global pandemic.
Living in lockdown and not being able to travel to other parts of the world became a massive change of pace in the work.
Suddenly life paused at the peak of freezing point in that worldwide emergency brake.
Like a rock dropped into a mirroring pond all the familiar structures and paths just vanished.
Projects were postponed and cancelled. I had many quiet days in the studio. Everything has changed and nothing.
Everything was uncertain, as it ever was and always will be.
The only certainty is that constant state of transformation. In my art too, it is what it is.
I learned to make floating ink drawings, an old method of marbling paper called Suminagashi.
The pile of monoprints is growing day by day. Like sediment layers it is stacking my time and existence.
The paper is about A4 size, nearly the dimensions of my face.
When I bow down to catch the streaks and flows my face is mirrored in the water and lines of ink.
And here I am. And there it is again.
That moment of breathing together with everything, being one and many.
My view wanders towards changing landscapes like looking through the airplane window on my way to somewhere else.
I see oceans, rivers and flows, fields of clouds and galaxies of stars and am traveling again.
Monika Grzymala on Suminagashi (line of flight) 2020–2022 |