Izabella Petrut | « Time, a dark thing in life, flying too fast or sliding too slow. I often wonder whether time is my friend or my enemy. I am always late, trying to postpone getting old, but always in a hurry to experience more of this life. Always tired, always on the road, running towards a sad finish-line: death, but permanently wanting to stop, get some sleep, smell the flowers and just breath. Sometimes, all I wish is for time to pass, so a new thing can happen, but when things are good, I try to hold on to a certain second for as long as I can. The present moment seams to be always slipping away. I am looking forward to the future and I am trapped in the past. Here and now are the only things we should experience, and yet, this is the most difficult thing to do. The present is a concept so difficult to truly understand, full of hope, a small spark of light in the darkness of time. « (*)
(*) Text & pictures provided by the artist
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