MaNIfesto

Strange times have come that a man of everyday life begins to wonder not so much about the certainty of the ground under his feet, but rather about the certainty and stability of the tombstone on which he has to walk every day.

It will not be anything revealing to say that every day we become victims of self-proclaimed stimuli, running around the less and less blue, endless planet, shrouded in dust and loneliness. Small punctures of colors, unnatural, fueled by acidity and chemical perfection kill in us the pre-natural desire to experience going beyond empiricism or apriorism. We have been allowed by synthetic, oval substitutes for preserved durability to abandon the instincts that have guided our species for several thousand years. We mummified ourselves. However, we have not been able to find a reagent that would break the permanent crystal of what lurks in the recesses of our mind, what scares us and what is the only fossil of the times when man could actually be called a rational creature. And although it looks like it, my words are not a criticism of either times or man. They are a praise of the possibilities that one receives when anti-system sabotage, arson, painting over, lighting brighter than the brightest stars.

There have been too many manifestos of groups leading society, too many political and artistic manifestos that were supposed to outline the history of culture for centuries, and only sketched poor sketches of the vices of those periods. So let my manifesto become a kind of anti-manifesto. With a word whose logic, not form, is supposed to survive, which encourages instead of agitating and instead of building paranoia, destroys them. So let my manifesto, the support of leadership desires and hope for a better tomorrow, be what I create and what will later turn into a slab covering my tombstone. Let the achievements testify to what I and other people will create, not our words.

The art I create is the realization of my naturalistic dreams. Return to nature and study of it, study of the material on which I work and study of philosophy, aesthetics and ontology of the world, which, fortunately, I can experience with every sense. It is a reflection of my longing for the lost reality, which began to die out, surprisingly not in the perceptible space, but in the elusive one, in my head. As an artist, I strive to return, to rejuvenate my perception of the world, contrary to social norms, not to age it. To become childish, not to die prematurely. Add more and more to the world, not take away and use it for your needs.

Let our lives becomes our manifestos.