Sarko Mutafyan

In The Presence of Dust

In The Presence of Dust

Energy becomes imbedded into matter. The cells of our possessions carry memories of joy and trauma, of fabrics worn on a dark day, of spaces lived and left behind.

After moving numerous and consecutive times over the past 9 years, the idea of a home has become foreign to me. The soul of any place - exchanged with only its objective presence and my temporary move through it. What was once a need for belonging and attachment to a space, which would provide an opportunity for safety, comfort and a sense of growth, has been reduced to the illusion of establishment, fractured by consistent instability and uncertainty.

Spending a recent evening in Bulgaria, I observe under scrutiny, what could be referred to as my new domestic landscape, and begin to notice how abstract it has become in comparison to what I’d known before. Temporary objects from the homes of distant friends and family have found a new identity – as household outlines and vaguely meaningful decorations, carrying with them a sense of irony and of continuous disposability.

Using Format