such defeatist tone i have.
and perhaps that’s okay. life, an inevitable defeat.
not because we die.
but because we are limited.
because we have pain and sorrows and cannot exist in unabating pleasure.
i’ve reconciled this is good.
my indignation, childish.
we all suffer.
my suffering insists that I am neither here or there.
that I cannot recognize my mother’s face, fury, or songs.
that my rivers crash blindly without reason,
regurgitating, carrying the passions of a billion wicked men.
feigning and dancing, i know not who i am.
my ontology foreign.
i ought to
be discovered, perhaps.
Genesis, i know not
how to be me.
I know not how to be meA solo exhibition by Ceninye
CatalogUnique photographic objects. One of one. Works will not be remade, reprinted, or editioned in any size or format.
All frames are integral to works. Signed COA included.
Boston pickup available. Select a piece to view details and acquire.
there is this thing. I speak vaguely because it’s hard for me to define. it sits in the in-between, perhaps—the unseen, the here and there. the future and the present.
there is this thing. this feeling, this incredible awe, this incredible— the incredible discovery that I am living here. that I am here.
It is amazing to think that I am here. I don’t know how to make that clear. that I know not of my origin—
that one day—poof!
I am here.
I am incredibly grateful for being here. and to God be all the glory.