Growing up in the industrial port city of Varna, I remember the waters of the Black Sea. As a child, I thought they were really black, polluted by suds, rust, and petroleum, with heavy machinery spitting poison. I was sad for the fishes. While crossing the Amsterdam industrial port zone, I got reminded of that feeling. Big cranes, unnatural sounds, and even though those waters hold an abundance of life to some extent, I had an uneasy feeling in my gut. The human influence on the natural world is visible everywhere I look, and it seems like it will remain this way. This industrial spectacle keeps growing, and it feels absurd; I feel absurd.ย
I have been exploring the Bulgarian folklore spirit, samodiva, and her image. She is a healer and always bound to water, questioning human relationships with the non-human world. In Ruigoord, she felt compelled to take care of the waters around the village. With a heavy costume, her presence dragged. She drifted and jolted, announcing her approach by the chiming bells on her skirt. Encountering people on her way, she asked them for help. It was a maintenance cycle, a task with an absurd purpose: cleaning the waters with a mop and a sponge, over and over again.ย
