Looking
at the things around me, I can’t resist the urge to find patterns and logic.
The black
hole is made from lines of text—cut and glued from magazines I kept in my room
as a teenager—a medium that not only once allowed me to daydream, but also
shaped my unrealistic perception of reality.
The collage next to it is made from a photograph of my younger sister
when she was a soldier, doing mandatory service in the Israeli army. Newly drafted
girls are sometimes ordered to wear braids during boot camp, their hair thus becoming
a visual sign of shame and domination. By splicing her braid and reconstructing
it on a piece of paper, the girly hairdo transforms into a pathway, one that
talks about control as well as the possibilities of rebellion.
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