THE GLASS OF WATER
THE THREE WOMEN
THE COMING OUT OR COMING IN?
VICTORIA TUCHOLKA |
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A PHOTO OF A GIRL It all started with a photo. A photo of a girl with transluscent pale skin. Her veins made her look as if entangled in a blue spider's web. Almost as if water was streaming down her body. As if she was melting. Transforming into whatever an element. Maybe water. Maybe air. Or maybe she was just about to burn down in flames. Her photo made such a lasting impression on me that I still cannot forget it, though we have never ever met. The girl commited suicide just a month before my arrival. I was caught by surprise with this news as her family told me about it upon arrival claiming that nothing serious enough?! has happened for me to be informed in advance. Well, it was not fair, because suicide is a grave thing, a young girl killed herself and it is not a regular, "normal" thing, you just cannot pretend that nothing has happened, well, you can, you can do whatever evil you like to yourself, but there is a limit, it starts with the comfort of other people. Hiding this fact from my knowledge should be an argument grave enough to leave, but for some unexplained reason I stayed. Why? Maybe because I got used to be put in incomfortable situations by my own family throughout my whole life. The boundaries of the comfort of others have been pushed by them to the limits and at my cost. At the cost of my comfort. A very complex manipulation. Thus I became sort of passive and ambivalent to the evil directed at me. Or maybe I had no choice but to accept the fact because of far more down to earth reasons, because I have just invested a great deal of time, effort, expectations and money to cross around 400 kilometers to get there and if I were to come back, it would mean a great loss on my part, I would have to express my disappointment with their lack of respect towards me. Again not treating me seriously and equally just as towards the suicide. I was put in an uncomfortable situation and nobody really cared about my feelings just as nobody must have cared for the feelings that drove the suicide to final solution. She was just lost and wrong and first and foremost we are stronger so we are right. And so I got involved in a sort of a perverse game. A game oriented at seeking revenge on the suicide, a child who chose a forceful solution to punish her relatives. Involuntarily I became a victim. Caught between a rock and a hard place. A medium. A tool. A pawn in the game, the war between the worlds. The world of the living and the world of the dead. This painting will be a personal testimony of my story. Paintings - this is how painters seek revenge. Lately I heard a man commenting on some family conflict that he prefers to have peace of mind to be right. Her prefers to have to be?! Well, you cannot have everything? D0 you? THE GLASS OF WATER Then there was a glass of water knocked over accidentally during my next visit after years. Though it was no coincidence. Then I realized the girl, she has never left the place, this table, she was angry, ready to use everything and everyone to seek further revenge on the living. Caught in between the Earth and the Heaven. Purgatory. It is all here on Earth - hell, heaven, purgatory. Whatever you wish, you get. Just remember not to let other people choose for you. No use in them throwing away the things of hers. Now she became maybe even more powerful than before. How could a dead person do things?! After all she is dead, she is no longer real, physical. Still I could feel her anger. Go away, stranger! This is my table! This is my seat! Look at me, Mother, Sister. I am here! Leave the washing! Sit down and listen to me! I could almost imagine her knocking over this glass to attract her family's attention. Attention of the people who using all possible means avoided interaction even with a friend just because she reminded them about the suicide. Now as the glass was knocked over and water spilled all over, they had no choice but to react. A spontaneous and possibly the only natural reaction in all that emotionally repressed world where only good things have the right to exist. THE THREE WOMEN So there are three parties in this spiritual seance. The dead, the living and the stranger. The last one is used by the dead person to influence the living, but also by the living, because they can feel the stranger pities the suicide, so according to the rule of autoprojection they avoid or fight the stranger, beacause the stranger becomes the advocate of the suicide and they are angry with the suicide. They feel discomfort in the stranger's presence, because they cannot tell what the stranger really thinks about the situation, the suicide, them. They do also not feel comfortable with themselves, because they keep on wondering how they could have prevented the suicide if they did do or not do things. The stranger is just a perfect incarnation for a ghost. The more they share the stronger the discomfort for the living who might often forget that this person is a seperate, independent entity not sharing the same goal. They will involuntarily autoproject their personal anger on the person just as if they would have done it if they only could meet, sit and talk with their daughter. They cannot forget and forgive the shame the suicide has brought on them. As long as this mental state will continue, they will not be able to clean the energy. They will involuntarily focus on common traits with the suicide in anyone who comes in. THE MEDIUM Who am I? A medium or just a tool? Is becoming aware from perspective of having been used by others a matter of active or passive participance in the conflict? Maybe it is only now that I become active? A medium? Through sketches, notes and finally sooner or later in the future through the painting and sharing it all with the world as if it was a testimony of my story, a testimony of an act of violence on people by the suicide, my tribute to her as to some extent she does exactly what I do not dare to do, show anger, I should have been angry about being told the truth upon arrival, why have I not felt and showed anger? have I directed it inside? is it a matter of ambivalence? passivity? resignation? from perceiving myself as a human being who has rights to be treated with respect? the testimony of the ignorance, inability to forgive and to accept one's own guilt, great sorrow transformed into misdirected revenge on other people by the living? Sometimes I wonder, maybe actually killing oneself or another in a violent context is actually the only way to prove one's own humanity. Being violeted just cannot do without expressing one's own pain. Maybe it should result in killing the one who violated us. Otherwise, we kill ourselves in physical or mental way and other random people involved in the story of our life. This pain is like cancer. Like a mortal desease. It will not stop until it kills again. It mutates like a virus seeking endlessly news ways of infecting people. We become all infected with it. There is no place to hide. No isolation will do. We just have to express our emotions in the most real, physical, violent way. It seems like the only effective cure. Otherwise, we all seem like ghosts wondering around this world. THE COMING OUT OR COMING IN? When I was wondering upon it, the idea of "the coming out" came up my mind, but it is not quite the case, because it is not the living who come out. Moreover, the living, they do not actually want to come out at all. They tolerate each other's passivity, ambivalence, ignorance. If there is any action on their part, it is just a side effect of the tension growing up in them and it is accidental and random. It can be just anything, they are sorry even for it, and it can hardly be interpreted as any kind of declaration of one's own attitude, thinking or feeling in a given moment. It has more to do with a spiritual seanse, though again it is not the living who are the medium, the active being seeking interaction between the living and the dead. It is rather the dead who uses our latent, dormant, repressed fears, thoughts, feelings and emotions, who embodies the living and uses all our secret potential to interact with the others. Still they cannot speak, they can only use the body to a certain extent to influence the real world. If anyone speaks words and uses them as a weapon to punish, hurt or undermine self-esteem, it is the living and it is undoubtedly wrong and evil. It is not the dead who is evil, but those who are alive and cannot accept their own fault and guilt. They think they are right because they were stronger, but it is actually the opposite. A suicide makes us all weak. If we continue to live on and insist upon being stronger, it is always at a price. We should actually all do just the same to prove we are authentic in our feelings towards the suicide. We should commit suicide. The experience and grief should overgrow us, but we fight it. It is just the same anger that drives us as it has driven the suicide to the forceful solution. The only difference is that our solution is passive. We repress our emotions and that is how ghosts are born, incarnate us and continue to seek revenge on others. It is the coming out of our repressed emotions, thoughts and feelings.
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VICTORIA TUCHOLKA
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