Seha Nur Sarı

The Solid State of Thought​

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Seha Nur Sarı, 2026
Glass, water, fabric, found objects, natural stones, collected objects, unglazed ceramic, painted glass, mirrored acrylic fragments, salt, sodium bicarbonate, ceramic oxides and wave motor
80 × 50 × 25 cm​​​

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There was an “I would never…!” on the surface. As I kept running up against the rigid boundaries of my “I would nevers,” I also came to see, over time, that I could not always stand by them. I understood that what I had thought was on the surface actually lay in the depths, as I kept colliding with those boundaries and watched even them begin to break over time. Down there is uncanny… Down there is very safe… Down there is very strange. After this, the flood.

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There were dogs. Always watching me, always frightening me, chasing me, sometimes accompanying me. Then there were bullets, sometimes piercing my heart, sometimes my skull. The snakes, meanwhile, are left over from my childhood.

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I’ve told you before, haven’t I? Sooner or later, I get the answers to the questions I ask. But each answer brings new questions with it. I gather the images that have seeped into my dreams like a hunter. Singularity and unity blur into one another. Things buried in the dark shift with a current.

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Another gaze within me, one that belongs to me, has engraved into its memory everything I thought I had forgotten, everything I thought I did not know. The past becomes memory. My dreams, meanwhile, become the ghosts of every present. I try to lift the sheets from these ghosts. All sorts of things emerge from underneath.

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As it rises, it grows calmer. I confront what it means to be human. Reaching love, it turns out, is not easy; first I walk through all my seas of suppressed anger, like molten lava. I hear the screams of my body.

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I am red-hot iron; my body is a cold hammer. With every blow, I take on a new shape.

 

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