Scene of action: the old dismantled railway bridge, formerly used for floatwood transportation, in the outskirts of the city. A small river. It has several sources, one of which is the old leaking city sewerage system. For a long time already, nobody drinks water from this river because of its persistent specific smell.
Once we had a different attitude to the world around. A human being was a part of nature, and nature was a part of a human being. Every river had its name, temper and life. Can we say a human being was unreasonable or ignorant, or primitive those days? It is at least strange for our contemporary to treat natural objects as living beings, let alone dialogue with them or serve tea.
The word harvest in a literary term is something that has been collected– Within my works I submitted, I have collected a number of opposites (within materials) that have a very fluid way of conjoining their opposites. The materials that don’t mix tend to push and pull around each other. I draw motivation from harvesting a rich knowledge of experience in life and also of violent forces of nature that, after a destruction, there is a renewal; a new growth after a violent collapse.
