Living Barometer or 200 days of a sickness (1999)

I´ve been painting for over 20 years. It´s become a trusted medium of self-expression for me. I´ve been writing for a while. I´ve been ill with MS for more than seven years. I´ve discovered that people that suffer from Multiple Sclerosis possess a unique ability: they have overly sensitive reactions to differing conditions in life and nature. We feel changes in temperature, air pressure, moisture, and also mood much stronger in comparison to healthy people.

Every day for two hundred days I painted a picture (40x50), whereby I concentrated on the impressions of the self-measured day, in a laconical way. The constant changes in my measurement results lead to a series of stylistic ideas that followed each other for a while, but then were replaced by new ideas. Thus originated cycles within cycles of figurative pictures, comics and letter fragments that deliver the abstract rhythmically stamped pictures to the project. In addition, the day was recorded in writing. From that arose a strongly graphical embossed writing that let the diary pages become an aesthetically equivalent expression of the day.

Colors: black, white blue, red- my pictures change their color every day. Every day has its mood, its theme, its colors.

Days of Celebration: The most beautiful days of my project - my birthday, March 8th, March 1st, celebrations that are recognized in Russia to this day. Days on which I meet friends; in life on the telephone or in memories.

Days of Sorrow: I´m not healthy and that´s sometimes sad. Especially when the weather is unfavorable. Sometimes sad things happen, for example the sudden death of my father. The days of sorrow build a whole cycle of pictures.

Conversations: On many days texts, letters or conversations are the theme. I paintedly write my wife a letter, speak to a bird in the snow or think up the text to a picturebook story.

Expectations: Sometimes I have a lot of expectations. I happily wait for an encounter, a change, a development.

Rhythms: I count the days, the hours, the minutes. I feel the beats of time. And that fills me with hope.


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