Creature, Creation, Creator
three months with black ink and white paper
It was January first when I spilled the first drop of ink on this paper.
It was all white then.
Now, after three months together, it is covered with ink and shapes.
A worm-like shape and a seed-like shape.
There, I had my pair to begin the dance through the never-arriving cease fire, the never-ending destruction of my species. Perhaps it was my quiet way of saying: Apologies, dear planet for bleeding you further. I really do not know what else to do at this moment.
I think Wormos, Worm Cosmos, is its name.
Back in January, on the first day of the calendar year, I laid a piece of thin white sheet on my table. It was the last big white paper I had at home, a seventy by fifty cm (70x50) that my grief for the bleeding and burning world could take refuge on its bigness with some small shapes. I drew on it during winter using the materials I already had in hand. The fibres of the paper and the fibres of my own being merged. I touched all over it, it touched all over me. Together, we began to destroy its whiteness first with some worms at the center, then with some seeds all around them. I drew day by day with no final shape in mind. All I knew was that I wanted to cover the paper as I felt very covered and burdened by the weight of humanity. And I wanted something simple and fluid I could play with. That is why I picked two main shapes and one colour of ink. Then the worms and their spirals lured me in… for three months.
I could have finished it earlier but I wanted us to spend more time together thus I moved slowly. I needed something this past winter and something needed me.
I lingered, not wanting to finish.
I covered the paper with shapes, wanting to overwhelm the paper.
And I tried my very own patience.1
Some days my fingers and hands got busy on a particular shape, at a particular corner, some other days I worked everywhere all at once which made me smudge the ink many times creating some charming mess. Luckily, these kinds of creations tolerate “mistakes” easily since they are made out of tiny and plentiful shapes. Everything just blends in with the rest and those little “mistakes” become its charm. One peculiar seed-shape out of hundreds, thousands is hardly noticeable. Or a little worm that does its own thing. And if someone notices them, then they get to share something imperfectly perfect with that person.
Indeed, the more the drawing stayed out in the open, unfinished, the more it was compromised. Here and there, I found a few tiny water drops that probably came out of my wet hair and landed on a lucky worm or seed. Then the pen managed its own mischief. The more you work something the more you risk it. The more you relate with something the more you enrich it. It was quite amusing. Including me hugging my glass full of water as I passed by… I am a clumsy human. Sometimes I ask myself how come the universe is trusting me with art?! Hope you laughed because I was trying to make you laugh, or at least smile.
All these memories make a process and an artwork come alive as far as I am concerned. It is a pity when art does not come with its web of relations and rather comes on its own and hangs on a wall, stands on a floor.
By February, my eyes began to complain. They were already tired of the darkness and confinement of winter, and in addition to that, I was exhausting them with these details. With my aching eyes, I started to see a bit blurry. Concurrently, I found myself longing for more naps and longer sleeps.
My eyes were getting heavier and heavier.
Was the drawing hypnotising me also? Perhaps it was.
I gave us a break, did not draw much for about two weeks using Nathalie’s visit as an excuse and began to do some eye exercises to please my eye muscles. They were pleased.
When March began to march, I was feeling a bit lazy and unsatisfied about my singular drawing task throughout an entire season, but this was all I could summon, and that too was a lesson on its own in an overly productive world. Still, a great sadness took over me. Nothing felt alive. Everything felt empty and disconnected. And I was overwhelmed with boredom and inability to transform it into creativity. I admit I began to lose heart. Unsure spring would ever come. Unsure if I could ever bring spring back to life… knowing I should try things I have not tried yet and must find the heart again and again.
Today I am touching this dear ink with ink one last time.2
And I am asking it to bring me and us more alive…
Wormos may be the work I documented the most aside from the written stories I have not been able to share yet. I was not only drawing this piece but also capturing it at different stages of its life; from different times, angles, and corners. I took its pictures, filmed the movement of its ink, reflected upon it, took notes and made stories through Instagram. After all the things we have been through collectively this past fall and winter, I needed connection as much as I needed creativity or maybe even more… Being able to share what I create is healing to me, connecting through what we create is a necessity.
Thank you for reading our journey with this dear ink. I appreciate it deeply.
Gizem Gizegen, 2024 Istanbul, ☉ Aries ☽ Aquarius, ☿ Retrograde
I shared all these pictures on my Instagram stories from January to April, 2024. It feels less alone and more connected when I do so. Here is a small clip of I and Wormos. I shot it on one of those rare winter days that we had good light in the living room.
You may remember or not, that I penned a piece about drawing, worms and reinventing brains in January around the time I began drawing Wormos. If you like to time travel or fall into its wormhole, its link is below.
Mind you, patience was one of my least existent attributes. My parents often told me the stories of my impatience. Over the past decade I cultivated it through drawing, writing and creativity…
That was what I thought that day. This ink stayed on my desk till Mars Saturn conjunction on April 10th, 2024. I just put it in its resting place for the moment. We are complete. (Footnote added, on April 11th, 2024)