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Urban birding in my home city Kikinda



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Friday, 12 May 2017

Where is home, and what is home?

Very often I find my self in this vacuum, in between places, cities, countries, identities. Born from a Syrian father and Serbian/Bosnian mother. Always felt different, growing up in a small city called Kikinda, in 1983. Kikinda was in Yugoslavia, a country that doesn´t exist today. My Syrian name put a stamp on my identity. I was always trying to fit in society in Kikinda, which was very homogeneous. Since 2009 I live in Norway. No need to hide, plenty of people like me. With university degrees, diverse background, foreigners, refugees...

Wait something is wrong, I don´t want steady job, loan, working hours, material safety. Maybe I want to be reach, so I can leave in my own little world.

I am artist since 2012. Great profession for someone like me. I can question my surrounding, the system, me in the system, almost everything. So still questioning my identity.

Very often I feel like chameleon. I change color, language, statues, behavior, origin. Sometimes I say I am Serbian, or Syrian, or Yugoslavian. Sometimes I feel like Yugoslavian, no country, only memories. I love my memories, they are so deep and wide. I go very often there, over the rainbow. I guess that´s why I am interested in history and remembrance. My art often deals with WW2, and other local wars in Yugoslavia. I find a lot of inspiration in old photography, archives, memories.

My next exhibition, project is about Beisfjord massacre. Nazis killed around 800 people in Beisfjord and it´s surroundings from Yugoslavia.

One of the survivals from Beisfjord Concentration camp  was a friend of my family, and there it is, a connection, motivation, spark for my artistic creation.


to be continued...


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