Statement:

Among the ancients, it is one of the four humors, Blood, like a train perpetually traveling between origin and destination, must remain in perfect balance. The sign of this equilibrium is its hue and temperature, aligned with the inner nature.

This crimson that courses through veins, akin to a train on its track, is the herald of life.

Its symbolic redness holds its value only until it cools.

Few elements in the living realm are as mercurial as blood.

Spilled blood is the most unsettling scene in the drama of existence. ///

Nothing embodies such a dual metaphor as blood: the substance of life and the testament of death!

Suspending blood on the slaughterhouse hook halts time at the site of the event.

This time, instead of the creature being stuffed with straw, the blood-the essence of its life, destined to cool one day-is frozen in time, taxidermized before its inevitable decay and demise.

Blood that spills-no matter the place or cause- is a metaphor for jeopardizing eternity and eternal life.

When we see blood, life momentarily teeters on the brink, in witnessing the unexpected symbol and manifestation of the fire of existence, we instinctively contemplate its extinguishment.

So, is blood Medusa we must not gaze upon?

A red, before it blackens and cools, like the view of a field once a slaughter ground for countless victims, is stretched upon the wall. This is a portrait of life within the panorama of vibrant meadows of existence.

This butchered being, now hung from the slaughterhouse hook, is sold in parts or as a whole.

Seyed Amin Bagheri

Autumn 2024