Original artwork available at @maksla_xo_gallery (Riga, Latvia)
I have been thinking a lot about parental relationships lately. Maybe because I lost my mother only 6 months ago, and even though we always had a difficult relationship, she was also the symbol of steadfastness and a safe harbor in my life, a safe shelter in case I needed to lay my head down and rest for a while. Maybe because since adolescence me and my son have been emotionally distant from each other and I recently remember the advice of an old friend saying that I had to be distant from him on order to him to grow up, take interest in the world, in other women. I was very afraid to damage my son in the way I felt my parents had damaged me and I took her advice very literally, breaking my own instincts and heart to give him spaceā¦ Unrequested space that later proved to damage the close relationship we had. I was a betrayed woman and not wanting to harm my son I betrayed him, by making myself absent, distant. Note to self: advices can be given in good intention, but can be very harmful too. Humans have different experiences and therefore the advices can have very adverse outcomes. 20 years later I still feel my son distant and untrusting, repeating patterns that were mine when I decided to give him space. Our romantic relationships are a reflection of the aspects we need to evolve in the relationship with ourselves. Abusive relationships are a sign of unhealthy and self imposed emotional mysery. That kind of relationship where you give the best of you to someone that is mostly there to take and only gives the bare minimum to keep you trying, giving, surviving. People should resolve their emotional issues before they set out to rescue others. We need to count on our safe harbors to learn how to swim before we sail out on our life quests. I was so afraid to suffocate him that I left taking away his life buoy. Even though we are in the same continent, he keeps an ocean between us and instead of finding safe ground he has been pedalling adrift in a leacky boat, that sooner or later will make him a castaway. From my hatch I can only see so far and the sailing continues with no guarantees for safe manoovers, easy journeys, calm seas. life taught methat a broken heart can be healed, but seeing the lost and sad face of someone you love more than anything, feels a little bit like I am drowning. Dreaming a little to try to make peace with my failures and your choices. Dreaming of pink sunsets, relaxing chairs on a calm deck, on a lazy afternoon of long awaited peaceful laughter, love and safety.
I would like to tell and show you a little about why Iāve adopted Rewaa as my own. Yes, she is younger than my son, so I feel like a mom to her. I feel that my daughter and grandkids are in the middle of this brutal war. She is very, very shy. But since the beginning it seemed that she also adopted me back and even though she has 3 small kids, she says good night to me, every evening š„° (except when they have no Internet or electricity to charge her phone), differently from my son, that has internet and electricity all the time and rarely calls š . Their culture is so far from my own, and yet, it is so beautiful to meet her in our humanity, and see that even culture, religion, a world apart can be merely a detail when kindred souls meet. Trying to learn and to know them better, I asked her where she met Mohammed. She answered: Oh no, this is something our parents prepare for us. I was shocked. (In this century?) And then I understood why she treats me with so much kindness and respect. She is a good engineer like her dad, and an amazing, loving mom like her own. Even though I had already talked with them a few times on cam, my suspicious western self, afraid of Internet scammers and wrong doers, went sneaking around on social media trying to find whatever I could on that couple that seemed a little bit too sweet and good to be true. I explain: they asked for help, but they never imposed it. They kindly asked for help and every time I shared their story or gave them Instagram advice (as if I could!) they would show immense gratitude. After a few times, she started wishing me a good night every night, even when I didnāt do anything for them. She would also ask how I was feeling and telling me little things about their difficult daily routine. But it was not only sadness. She told me stories like how happy she was working both on the bee keeping project with other engineers (very proud to sell pure Palestinian honey) and also the job in the dairy factory, where they produced yogurt out of dehydrated milk from Denmark, because Palestine doesn’t have enough cows for their own production of milk. She also told me that they never travelled, because they have been besieged for most of their lives and that was a dream that they could not yet make come true. We played about the day the war would end and how we could finally meet and laugh and hug and talk and cry together about these very dark, painful times. And then she also shared fotos from her kids (pretending I was her mom, I supposed I also felt very proud of my pretend grandkids). Maria was no more than 4 months when we started talking and now my cute chubby cheeks girl is sitting and almost standing up. I saw Rewaa a few times on cam, but she would never send photos of herself. That was annoying me a little because I said to her that it is much more difficult to get people to engage with her story and donate if they donāt see the face of their campaign. She would shower me with photos of her kids, but never photos of her own. One day I gave her an ultimatum: Rewaa, without your face no one will donate! She said she was very uncomfortable about showing herself. I flipped: Rewaa you are a gorgeous girl, we could sell your story much easier with your face on this campaign! I froze a little. Yes, I had heard myself. I not only didnāt know her culture, as I completely ignored it, butchered it and submitted it into our western standards where everyone has a price, everyone is a product and even the better if it is all shaped and marketed for mass consumption. I felt so disrespectful with a girl that had showed nothing else but love and respect for me and all the dum things I could say. I understand that our idea of oppression may be the obligation of wearing a head scarf, but we see no damage on being ourselves a product of consumerism or even tattooing slogans or brand logos on our own skin. I was oppressing her. I was demanding her to show her face and according to her culture, religion and her own choices, it was the same as asking her to stand naked on a public square. How arrogant. Evil. How small of me. She never said no, but she also never sent the picture. And slowly we both accepted that. At some point we just started understanding each otherās ways, concessions, limits, beliefs, choices.
I am an atheist. I am also very spiritual because I believe in physics and for me energy is the answer and mystery of science, as much as God is the answer and mystery of everything for those that believe in It. Because of my lack of god it is easier for me to cope with my mortality and try to be good just because life is way too short to accumulate bad energy. In the other hand, Palestinians are extremely religious and with all the ordeals this people have been enduring for at least 76 years, I think I too would have needed to believe in a mighty being that could save me from so much evil, dirty politics, aggressions, thefts, oppression and Nakbas. Palestinians are incredibly kind because they know it all shall pass and in the end they will be granted the things they love so much in their own land and they are more and more deprived from. We all believe in whatever gives us the most positive outlook out of our miserable human lives. I never told Rewaa I was an atheist. I suppose they believe I am Christian. She never once tried to indoctrinate me. Not once. āWhatever your beliefs are, we love you and we pray for youā, they said. I never answered. I just accepted their kindness, knowing that they where giving me much more than I could ever give them. No western religious person would let go so easy on such an unprofitable trade. Have you ever met any fundamentalist Christian? Well, weāve heard, through our whole lives (or perhaps more vehemently since September 11th or October 7th) how dangerous fundamentalist Muslims were. Well, I still believe that any fundamentalism is core stupidity, but have you lately met any fundamentalist evangelical zionist? Well, nothing is more dangerous than thoseā¦ well, perhaps only Israeli zionists.
Anyhow, going back to my western suspiciousnesses; young Rewaa and Mohammed had ancient Facebook profiles. From those ancient times, when they were almost teenagers, just around before they met. A handsome, humble, yet hardworking and ambitious boy that was going to medical school. A young student with a little bit of an edgy gothic fashion taste. They didnāt post much through the years but slowly you could see their transition into the whole people they are today (We all had our embarrassing teenage years, right?). On their earlier photos I found young Rewaa and her beautiful luscious dark hair, her perfect face and the kindest blue eyes. Then came some wedding pictures. Fairy-tale like, to make any western capitalist princess legitimately insulted jealous. The bride shows her hair, apparent shoulder in a beautiful dress, the veil, the silhouette of her face, but no longer shows the face. And she seems immersed in bliss. Not one speck of regret nor oppression. Acceptance, hope, love, pride of her culture, approval of their parents choice as if she couldnāt have done better herself. Then a bit later the first baby belly. Then a cute baby and a proud dad, then family gatherings and celebrations, birthday greetings, kids videos running on their yards, friendly and loving comments from university, work colleagues, relativesā¦ then war. Destruction of their homes, a plastic tent built on deserted sands. Now my girl is trapped with her family in a war zone.
They have been displaced 16 times.
They donāt have clean water, almost no food, drones buzzing day and night, bombs falling all around them 24/7, for the past 8 mothsā¦ as long time time as Mariaās whole life. Ali and Tia are 5 and 4. They look tired and afraid, they miss kindergarten and their toys. Mohammed still tries to work in what is left of a local hospital, he has no salary. He works because he must to help his people. I know no western doctor that would risk his life for that reason.
Rewaa messages me good night, almost every night.
They fled Rafah just before it was brutally invaded and tents were bombed. I guess Allah is also trying his best to save whoever he can from all the collateral damage the empire is causing. Perhaps He is what has been keeping Rewaa and Mohammed, Ali, Tia and Maria alive in such desperate, dire times.
Also their go fund me campaign. That gives them hope and chance of survival.
They want desperately to cross the border to Egypt (their first real trip abroad) and live.
They want to see their children grow, study, play, eat healthy food and drink clean water.
That should not be so much to ask for.
But they donāt always have internet.
So I must ask on their behalf: Please, help my friends.
Help them as we all should have done during the Holocaust in WWII, the genocide in Rwanda or the Nakba in 1948.
We cannot change history, they say, but we definitely should try a different end. This is our opportunity.
RewaaĀ“s campaign is still far from reaching their goal so I decided to do two extra actions to help them. ItĀ“s two different raffles and they both follow the same rules and conditions, it costs 10ā¬ each to participate and can be done through donations straight into their fundraising on this link or via MobilePay to my phone (+358413690466). Remember to send me the print of your donation so I can put you in the raffles lists, mentioning which raffle you are signing on to. The first one is called “Bird of Freedom” and if you win it you will get this painting here sent to your home. The second raffle is called “My own painting” and the winner will get me to paint a commissioned word (20×30) of your own wish. Both raffles will be donated 100% to this family, helping them to escape death and starvation.
Send me a message if you need to know more! š„°ā¤ļø
What happened to peace, to harmony, to respect, to solidarity, to empathy? What happened to love?
There is injustice in each and every country, continent. Events so bizzarre that we doubt not only our capacity to love, but the human capacity to think.
We must re-think and re-evaluate our human attitudes towards the planet and towards each other. We are walking away from the humane society we should be evolving to be. We are becoming something else and it doesnĀ“t look good.
We should be more like nature, more like the ecossistems that surrounding us, because there we can see that what doesnt comply to the laws of life and love, is doomed to extintion.
………….
NĆ£o tenho certeza de onde erramos.
Vemos pessoas, mas nem todas sĆ£o humanas.
O que aconteceu com a paz, com a harmonia, com o respeito, com a solidariedade, com a empatia? O que aconteceu com o amor?
HĆ” injustiƧa em cada paĆs, continente. Acontecimentos tĆ£o bizarros que duvidamos nĆ£o sĆ³ da nossa capacidade de amar, mas da capacidade humana de pensar.
Devemos repensar e reavaliar nossas atitudes humanas em relaĆ§Ć£o ao planeta e uns aos outros. Estamos nos afastando da sociedade humana que deverĆamos estar evoluindo para ser. Estamos nos tornando outra coisa e isso nĆ£o parece bom.
Devemos ser mais como a natureza, mais como os ecossistemas que nos rodeiam, porque ali podemos ver que o que nĆ£o obedece Ć s leis da vida e do amor, estĆ” fadado Ć extinĆ§Ć£o.
This work is called āTogether we can reach the starsā. It is about the wishful thinking of a society where people, helping each other, could reach higher goals for humanity. It is about, hand by hand, making something better which everyone could benefit from. Not a polarized world of opposites, but a world where everyone counts and matters, above profit and interests.
The world is killing itself based on division. There is not them and us, its all we. Greed, territorialism and insanity is rulling and everyone is loosing. There are wars everywhere, at this very moment, but some wars attain out mercy, while others are completely ignored. Why? Is it because one could kill you and the other presents no risk to you? If that is the case, I bring sad news: you are already dead inside.
The world, from this naive artistās perspective, looks like this: The planet is a big beautiful school and some kids are not allowed to learn, play and eat there. Other kids are grounded during recession but they didnāt do any wrong. Some kids are overfed, overdressed, over indulged and even given free grades and stars, while others are starving, cold, being bullied and punished without any reason. Some kids are better than others because of their surnames, skin color, the amount of money their parents hold in their bank accounts. Would you like your kid to attend that school? Would he be bullying or bullied?
Stop insanity.
Stop allowing the bullies to decide who thrives and who perishes.
If you canāt see the whole picture, or if you cant see both sides, you are part of the problem, not part of the solution.
Together we can reach the stars, but against each other we are doomed, collectively, to fail.
The presidential election in Brazil ends tomorrow, 28th October 2018.
It can literally be the end of a democratic era or a second chance for it.
It is an odd case of extremes.
In one side Fernando Haddad, a university professor with amazing carriere both academically and politically acclaimed. A successful Minister of Education for 7 years, who built hundreds of schools and Universities, who introduced and implemented dozens, perhaps hundreds of educational programs and projects on which millions of students had access and opportunity to education, professional improvement and social inclusion. Then he was the mayor of the biggest city in South America and did a stupendous administration, despite the corrosive opposition and the critical national and international scenario. He is a humanist, a social democrat, a man of way more virtues than flaws and yet he is now running against the worst Brazilian politician of all times. Jair Bolsonaro exemplifies and represents everything a man shouldn’t do or be in the 21st century. He is misogenous, racist, corrupt, lazy, stupid and violent, but also a coward. He has been in politics for 30 years and the only success he had was on putting three of his kids on politics and multiplying his assets in many millions of dirty, corrupt money. He had, during this time, only two projects approved and they had nothing to do with the people. He publicly declares his hate for blacks, gays, indigenous, women. He defends that every citizen should own a gun. He said that he will start a war against our neighbors Venezuela to clean up communism (Maduro was elected by the majority of the Venezuelan people… But they have oil. Do the math). He wants to do Trump’s dirty work using young Brazilian blood. Very convenient.
Tomorrow is election day in Brazil.
We can become a fascist country, ruled by a mad man.
Or we can choose Haddad and give our future a chance.
It should be a very simple choice.
But these are not very easy times.
May love and hope prevail.
*13*
A eleiĆ§Ć£o presidencial no Brasil termina amanhĆ£, 28 de outubro de 2018.
Pode literalmente ser o fim de uma era democrƔtica ou uma segunda chance para ela.
It was one of these unexpected gifts of life. Unknown country, city, place, people and yet, I felt completely home, welcome and happy. Kondase Keskus is a Naive Art Museum in the city of Viljandi, Estonia. But is much more than a beautiful centre of arts. It is a magical place with amazing scenery and gorgeous, strong and kind people. I had no idea that such place existed and I am really happy life brought me there. It was my last exhibition and somehow it felt like a heavenly present for my carriere. A sign. A secret message from life to make me understand that happiness is made of small, special places and moments like this and nothing in life is permanent, everything unfolds for better chances, new beginnings and growth. My art grew and found love on Viljandi. So did I.
I moved to a new country six months ago. A new language that is not very easy to learn. A new place and culture, new challenges. It’s about love and survival, always, life is. And every new challenge brings its own new obstacles and pleasures, lessons and adversities. This is my new place, I want to learn how to exist here.
Therefor I am stepping out of my artistic carriere.
The past ten years were all about struggle with very little reward. Times when I gave a lot of my work in exchange of food and simpathy, but most times in exchange of nothing. I survived but I can’t say I made a living out of it. I worked a lot but my work was many times locked up in dusty dark cellars with no sales. The world doesn’t reward or support simple art. And I am a simple artist.
Some gallerists got their free paintings and never sold a piece.
Some tried to help, most never even bothered.
Friends bought underpriced paintings and I was fed for a while.
Some stole my paintings and took my works without ever paying for it.
In fact, they stole much more than they took.
Many appreciated my work but didn’t understand the bigger picture.
Women artists should be encouraged, supported, consumed. I am not getting younger, I cant wait for society’s higher conscienceness to kick in. There are children in cages in this world, human and civil rights being slaughtered, the last thing people are thinking about is silly naive art. People are either worried with their new car or vacation or struggling to put food in their plates, it’s not about art.
I should use my silly art to make a statement, but my plate is also empty and nobody works on an empty stomach.
I can’t do this anymore. I need to survive.
I need to grow out of my sorrow and be selfish enough to do another thing.
I am in another country, I am in another story, this is my new thing.
I have now, for the first time in my life, a love big enough that makes me feel safe and nurtured, energized and motivated. I want this change. I need to belong. I am going to take this opportunity to reinvent myself, to learn and be a part of something real. New beginnings are in order. This is it.
Thank you to the few real dear people who truly supported me for this past 10 years.
I know who you are and I don’t forget.
This is the end. And it feels right.
luciana mariano 