West of Eden

In this aeries I attempt to create an imaginary glimpse of the Garden of Eden as a kind of a resting place, vacillating between life and death, atrophying and eternally regenerating, together with its fragmented symbols. It is an ambiguous view of Eden through the branches of its archetype - the Tree of Life - a lush garden as much the cemetery, with trees and birds, but still (or already) without people. It is both an elegy and ode to the tenuous paradise, struggling to bloom despite decay, that is made up of seven pieces (like the number of heavens or days of creation) – most of them resembling, often by coincidence, a letter or a word in Hebrew with a symbolic or personal meaning.
Having grown up as a secular Jew in Russia, I realized with the passing of my mother, that the contemplation of death and afterlife through Jewish symbols and burial rituals is what connects me, more than anything, to my heritage. “West of Eden” is dedicated to the hard life and the memory of my mother.