“They flew too close to the sun. What was left of them were these broken busts.
Even when i have all the pieces I cannot put them back together, though I know
what they once looked like. Or so i thought.
I tried to paint a memory of you from the past.
I was reminded of someone familiar.
I saw this image in my dream of two lines crossing each other. And at this point
I realised that time is the only thing they didn’t have.“
Time is a constant; it is something that we, as human beings, cannot grasp or control. The only thing we can do is to experience it, to live in it. We cannot own time because it is not something physical. Our perception of time comes through events that are constantly happening. As you read this sentence, several seconds have gone by and you cannot go back and un-read it, just as you cannot predict what I am writing, what you will read next. Memories, in this sense, seem to be records of events that happened in the past. But memories do not work like a video recording but instead a collage. They are fragmented, piled up, sometimes obscuring each other, sometimes out of sequence. We cannot help but feel like something is missing, and wonder whether what we remember actually did happen. Memories can become skewed and altered.
This exhibition represents the many facets of disconnection. It is the feeling of being isolated, estranged to unfamiliarity, loss of loved ones. But it also offer new beginnings, new encounters and new companions. Time is the enemy – it is the disease but it is also the medicine. Recovery takes time and time can bring transformation. We live in time, we are prisoners of time. Time is the only thing we don’t have.
r o m a n t i c a l l y s a d 