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I am alone in the studio.
Surrounded by paintings that no one wants, I sit with them, these objects I have made, these forms that once had meaning, now hovering in an uneasy limbo. I question my practice. I question my purpose. I doubt myself. I ask, and ask, and ask—but no answers come.
These paintings, these altered forms, once had a life. I made them, and they made sense. But now, they are layered over, erased, buried beneath coats of paint that harden like a shell, or scraped raw until only fragments remain. Some resist, their past still pressing through, ghostlike. Others disappear completely, swallowed by silver, by white, by time. I don't know if they are becoming something new or simply dissolving into obscurity. I don’t know if that even matters.
What happens when something is no longer what it was meant to be? What happens when function is abandoned, when form is pushed to the point of erasure? I used to think objects existed for a reason, that they served a purpose. But here I am, surrounded by things that no longer function as they once did—paintings stripped of their original intent, frames that no longer hold images, questions that lead nowhere.
The works themselves ask instead of answer. Which painting is your favourite? I don’t even know if I have one. What time is it? As if time moves at all in this space. The days blur together, and I am left with only these surfaces, these traces of what once was. Do we all need fairytales to believe? Maybe I do. Maybe I tell myself stories to keep going—to make sense of the silence, the uncertainty, the weight of all these objects I can’t let go of.
Some canvases are thick with layers of white wall paint, built up until the surface cracks, breaking apart under its own weight. Another was covered completely, only to be scraped back down to reveal a single blue sphere, like an echo of something forgotten. Some are coated in silver, reflective but empty, light bouncing off without revealing anything beneath. Three frames are fused together, impossible to separate. Is it finished yet? These pieces are as much about destruction as they are about creation. They are what happens when I push something past its limit—when I try to erase and, in doing so, create something new.
But who are these works for? Are they just for me? I stand in front of them, waiting for meaning to appear, but instead, I just keep questioning. Is this what art is? A process of asking and never answering? A cycle of making and unmaking, of trying to hold onto something only to watch it slip away?
I have stripped these objects of their function, their original intent. And in doing so, I have exposed something else: the fragile, uneasy space between clarity and chaos, between knowing and not knowing. I have taken what was once stable and made it unstable. I have taken meaning and drowned it in layers of paint, hoping something else might emerge from underneath.
It is about waiting for clarity that never comes.
It is about what remains when meaning is stripped away.
It is about everything I do not know.
Four towering, vertical artworks, each in a 16:9 ratio reminiscent of a phone screen, feature vibrant paintings adorned with prominent black rectangles. These compositions explore the theme of digital obsessions, using their black screens to unveil unsettling, unseen truths that provoke a fundamental question: "What defines the relationship between humanity and technology in today's world?”
The artwork explores the intricate connection between women and food within the context of societal attitudes, social media, and image. In contemporary media landscape, mounting concerns arise regarding the impact of pervasive imagery on body image, self-esteem, and the development of unhealthy relationships with food.
The series stands as a testament to the essence of unity, celebrating the power of friendship and emphasizing the necessity for solidarity among women. It delves into the complexities of women’s relationships, shedding light on the unfortunate reality that societal conditioning and patriarchal influences can sometimes lead women to perpetuate divisions among themselves.
The series explores the fundamental significance of tactile interactions, evolving in meaning throughout various stages of human life. These paintings poignantly emphasize the essence of nurturing relationships, the inseparable bonds between parents and children, and the intimate connections shared by couples.
 
Spanning a period of over two years, the onset of the 2020s saw a global halt where touch, a cornerstone of human connection, was abruptly forbidden. The COVID-19 pandemic swiftly stripped away humanity's most intrinsic and essential act: touch. A kiss, a hug, or even a simple handshake became prohibited, prompting deep reflection on the indispensable nature of physical contact. This sudden deprivation posed various questions about the human need for touch and illuminated the stark realities of loneliness when one encounters another person yet cannot bridge the physical distance.
Emerging from a Polish upbringing within the framework of Catholicism, the artist intimately experienced societal scrutiny—whether through way of dressing, encountering body shaming, or navigating cultural shifts after moving abroad. These personal encounters inspired a series of seven paintings, each representing women who face societal judgment for their life choices.
 
The series includes women who choose abortion over motherhood, those who prioritize family over career, individuals who pursue non-traditional professions, those who endure body shaming, and those who face judgment for their religious choices. These women, having made conscious decisions and embraced the consequences of their actions, continue to face unwarranted societal commentary. The series began in 2020, a year marked by a pivotal change in Poland's abortion law, which effectively imposed a near-total ban on abortion and prompted thousands of women to take to the streets in protest.
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© 2024 by Aleksandra Cegielska. All rights reserved.

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