The invisible preserves one’s identity within a land that cannot be visible. Borders shape limits of vision. They draw a line between what is seen and what should never be seen. They divide our perception into gaps of knowledge; the land that is on your side is familiar, it is yours, you know the history of its sacrifice and preservation. The middle part is no hu-man land. The other side is invisible. It lives behind webs of denial that never connect, but still protect your vision from seeing. The web contains a perpetual state of mirrors that do not mirror the other only one’s self: your story, your history, your rites, your ownership, your blood.
The nation state survives through this blindness, it teaches you a language of defense through the repetition of trauma.
In my work I question my place within a war I was shaped not to see, and a legacy that I’m asked to protect and dedicate my life to.