Love is a kind of mutual taming. In a relationship, we not only adopt each other’s habits and learn to find compromises, but we are also constantly confronted with another person’s character. Everyone tries to establish their own rules, defend their established way of life, and at the same time, become a part of the other person’s life. There is something both primal and profoundly human in this process.
In my work, I push this mundane conflict of characters to the point of absurdity. The person transforms into a peculiar creature winding around a fruit bowl. Its body has taken on animalistic features, but its head remains human. It has literally fused with an item of household life, yet has not lost its own will or character.
I am interested in the contradiction between domestication and the desire to remain oneself and preserve peace in relationships. The creature has become part of the home space, but has not turned into a compliant being. It clings tightly to the bowl, as if asserting its rights over it. It is no longer clear who has tamed whom, who has adapted to whom, or who is truly in control.
There is no tragedy in this metamorphosis. Rather, it is an ironic look at how love interweaves our characters, habits, and desires, generating the most unexpected forms of coexistence.
