My name is Hate!
A February morning, between 7 and 8 o'clock, found me on the corner of a street. Everything around was that typical grey color that I personally abhor, and certainly don't admire out of a fake artistic feeling, the way some morons do. It was snowing beautifully and the snow was covering the vomit I had just thrown up. I was a super-hero. The snow and the air were revolting against me. They were clogging my lungs and my heart, as the most ferocious enemy I could never fight against. The fired butchers were wandering the streets, hoodless, but bearing one hope. They were bathing in the dust of past promises. Suddenly, some persistent, torturing thoughts invaded my brain, but in a very pleasant way…
„Wouldn't it be better for the 4 riders to show up? What meaning would Jesus' second coming have? May the two wolves swallow the sun and the moon. Is the mother of morons always pregnant and not even considering an abortion? Ah, she's even adopting now? …funny.
Am I a wolf? Or just a poodle? Or a hyena? Or the aborted fetus of the future? Am I important? Should I adjust? Should I go to sleep? Should I ignore that I'm a passenger in this cart full of dead bodies, which is rapidly heading to that unfortunate place, where I don't want to go? Should I be relevant? Should I question myself about many things that have no answers, and if someone gave me an answer, wouldn't it just end in a plethora of more questions? Why? Why? Why?! And even if I got an answer, I would be just as dissatisfied as before. I refuse to beg for answers, better steal them. Maybe. I'm not trying to come up with any answers, or to look for them; I'm not trying to offer solutions, or look for them. I'm heading headlong, as all others do, towards a brick wall 12 layers thick, and I won't stop and check out what's around the corner, simply because there is no corner. I've been lied to. We've been lied to. I dislike the idea that somebody, somewhere, is meant for you. We're coiling around this idea like a snake would around a 3 months-old baby. I'd better embrace the thought that a coffin (the best-case scenario) is forever... It would be more likely. Thus, I will at least land on my feet. If I try to classify this species of ours I realize that, in fact, we are not mammals. Because every single mammal on this planet is instinctively creating some sort of balance between it and the environment, except for us humans. We keep on relocating from one place to another, where we multiply and multiply, until we devour all natural resources, so, in the end, the only way to survive is to infest other places. There's a similar pathogen agent on our planet, which does essentially the same thing. It's the virus. The human race is a virus, a cancer for the planet. We're a disease and there's no remedy for it. The human being is harmful by nature.”
I have no intention of changing anything. I am unable to change anything. I don't understand anything at all anymore. I'm puzzled. My attempt with “Fear and Fury” is to try to express this fury of mine, the fear and confusion. To extract some meaning from the dust of past promises. To try to render the hidden sound in my heart and head. This exhibition is about you, human being, “the image and likeness of God”, the absolute promise, but it's also about me, the poison in the fountain. The experience and the eternal love we've been sharing for some years.
“Fear and Fury” does not bear anything special. It's just the way I perceive reality. Irony, sometimes satire, hatred, violence and a bit of humor. Stuff I see, hear and feel. The project is about things that are happening. I am not offering a clear solution or a purpose - the very proof being the presence of some elements originating in the realm of the absurd. My works are references to an existing world and my experiences within it. They show a different side of reality, an ignored reality. Marginal stuff. Others are trapped in some Garden of Eden, in some permanent false euphoria, bearing their irritating, undeserved smiles. I, for one, am terrified, hateful, and I wouldn't mind if some things would just burn.'