LIVING TAPESTRY
BLIND SPOT
DISSIDENT
NO. 0
BLUEST OF THE SEAS
WASHERWOMEN
POSSESSIVE SHOEMAKER
STALE NEWS
UNDER THE WEATHER
INFORMER
CASTS
JOURNEY
LIVE CAM RENAISSANCE
DOLL HOUSE
PERSONAL SPACE
PERSONAL SPACE #2
THE PEST
TABLETOP MEMORIES
ANXIETY
WEATHER FORECAST
ON THE LOOKOUT
COLOURING SOUNDSCAPES
REFLECTION ON LIFE NO. 125082
WEATHER FORECAST - WINTER/SUMMER
CLOUD THAT SMELLED BLUE
SOCKS SNAPPER
VEXATION OF SPIRIT
STORM IN A TEA GLASS
SHADOWS
HOIST
CARDBOARD DRIPPINGS
ACROBATS
GRAVITATION
BREATHING IN THE AIR
WE ARE HERE
INFINITY
1928
WINDOW SASH
SNOWBALL FIGHT
TODDLER
STATICVIDEO
POLAR BEAR FODDER
TREMBLING CREATURES
LIFE IS STRUGGLE
MADE IN ANCIENT GREECE
JUMPING JACKS
FISH TALK
SPEEDLESS
IN THE SHADE OF AN OLIVE TREE
TOUCHMEWEB
FUR DIE STADT
THE ANGEL
DRUMPAINTING

THE STORY OF HEROIC PILOT

SARCOPHAGUS, Ghanaian Style, or the Funeral
A SYMPHONY for X Slide Projectors
BRIDE
work






PERSONAL SPACE №2


From series “Personal Space”
Anna Frants and Media Lab Cyland
Programming, video, audio, buffalo snow, fans, household items.
2015

Do you own the shadow cast by trees on a bench if you come to the park every day?  The paradox lies in that it seems your own; you got accustomed to it, became intimate with it and came to love it.  You involuntarily became the source that throws light.  Unlike the unemotional "cold" sun, a person that came to love the shadow radiates warmth - the warmth that is neither rational, nor practical, and it eludes accurate analyzing or computation.

In Speak, Memory, Nabokov called it an "individual mystery":
"[Through the train window,] I saw with inexplicable pang, a handful of fabulous lights that beckoned to me from a distant hillside, and then slipped into a pocket of black velvet:  diamonds that I later gave away to my characters to alleviate the burden of my wealth".

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