seperation
memory
grief
isolation
perception
liberation
The In-Between
This instillation focuses on designing the passage to the spiritual realm. The space I was tasked with creating means to transfer souls from our reality to the afterlife while remaining otherworldly and non-denominational. Putting personal beliefs aside is near impossible as the designers must see through the lens of all belief systems, reducing them to their most fundamental values. I explain my design response through a six part installation that proposes the transition of the deceased as well as the dilapidating memory of the living. Death is uncomfortable, but it must be discussed if we are to truly live.
Death is our life's ultimate unknown. It is stored in the recesses of our consciousness until it’s not. But just because keeping it down is comfortable, does that mean it is wise? Death is a constant in the equation that is my thought process. Death does frighten me, but I am not afraid to die. Death scares me because of what, because of who it can take away. It terrifies me because I have held it, I have heard it, I have been it.
There is something hollow yet heavy about death. The feeling of holding their body on the shower floor never leaves you. The weight pressing down on you, making you sob to the point where no tears come out. Each heave getting stronger, seemingly breaking your bones with grief. The weight stored in your memory forever. The helpless feeling of you slipping away. Joints seem to bend in new ways, infiltrating your thoughts and haunting your dreams. No tension, no strength. It is strange how you don’t notice the blood. It does not make you feel dirty. It flows down like water. It is not disgusting; it is life. What stays is the touch of cold. The figure chiseled in your mind. The weight you left behind. I held death in my arms. I held what death leaves behind
There is something grotesquely silent about death. The sound of death rings in my ears. The shrill as their foot slips. The conquering silence as the rock consumes them. I stand there, petrified by the inevitable. So empty. So loud. All you can do is stand there, holding tight to what remains. Your body is stabbed with ice as you strain with grief. The feeling of your foundation closing in on itself. Frozen air suffocates your body. I can still have your release. The sound of a misplaced foot. The cry of life letting go. I have heard death. I have heard death leaving.
Death takes; but, death also gives. No more pain. No more anguish. No more thoughts. Sweet release from reality. Such comfort. Ultimate bliss. I was an addict and death was my drug. The more I experienced it, the more I needed it. Left behind is your shell - the weight of the world. You are tired of existing. You dread pulling yourself through endless days. As you stare at yourself, you do not recognize the form you have become. The soul is begging to be set free. The physical pain of death does not scare me. The pain from death appears infinitesimal beside the pain felt from sustaining each day. Constant pain waning to numbness. With this sacrifice, freedom. The promise of release is tantalizing. Sensual. Seductive. I have met death. I have met who death can turn you into.
The dead only die halfway. They continue living within the people they leave behind. However, this is only a half life. The way the living remember them is not true to the dead’s original identity. Masked is the truth and promoted are the highlights. These memories bend and alter until the person we created bares no resemblance to the one passed. The mind has a way of comforting itself at the expense of reality. These ideas stored in our empty heads are not real. They are not the person. They are a perception. The identity eludes us, dancing so seductively behind the veil. We try so frvoulsy to solidify their legacy, though all that will remain is what our mind chooses to remember.
We mustn't be afraid of death. It is the only universal human experience. The bond with the spirit and body is broken with mortal acquiescence. You are no longer held by the constraints of biology. What exists now is divine energy transcending. As your vessel fades you scintillate among realities. No concept of dimension to constrict your movement. Your being is diffused into sensuality. Transformed into fluorescent energy, you feel your mind dilated. The veil has disintegrated. You have come back to get me. You have not died, you are at last living. Death has given you everything; and everything is beautiful.
There is nothing to fear about death. It is a natural, beautiful event. It is not scary. It is not our enemy. What we must fear is our own mind. It bends and twists our history to fit our current truth. The brain is constantly altering our perception of people, of memories, of reality. The only enemy here is our own mind; for it has the ability to turn anything, even death, into a monster.