“At times I feel as if I am spread out over the landscape and inside things, and am myself living in every tree, in the splashing of the waves, in the clouds and the animals that come and go, in the procession of the seasons. There is nothing in the Tower that has not grown into its own form over the decades, nothing with which I am not linked. Here everything has its history, and mine; here is space for the spaceless kingdom of the world’s and the psyche’s hinterland.”
Carl Jung said this almost a century ago and I’ve always related to this thought but in a very different way. As much as this thought has kept me sane as an introvert who resides alone, at the same time it has always kept me friendly to the space around me. Yet wherever I go, I remain an introvert and try to recreate my own space. But this doesn’t mean that I am not fond of travelling. This doesn’t mean that I have no affinity for new environments. I still do enjoy the clouds, the moving trees, the whisper of the wind, and sight of the ever stable yet never stable sky.
But I’m always in my own space outside of this space which exists.
This set of illustrations depicts this space around me. The space that I’ve created in my mind: the natural organic space. The space that no one can see or experience, but me.
Wherever I go, I’m in my space: We were born together and will probably die together. I can’t imagine my life without it. This set of illustrations serves as my willingness to accept the new environment while clinging onto an old one. It might be strange to read or hear, but it’s only natural. It’s only me.
