“At Virginija‘s” funeral home, 2026

Colored pencils on paper

“At Virginija‘s” funeral home. Doors being unlocked to the afterlife. In her hands, she holds the keys to many secrets. Among them are her own – perhaps in the evening, a lonely gaze lingers too long on the sweet figurines – her own witnesses. Sinking into soft bedding, amidst decorative patterns where all forms lull with their primitiveness, she can almost forget that everyday life lies in a cold block of granite. There is no guilt in that pink fluff that gently tickles the nose, no guilt at all. The props fill the void where something real could be, yet at the same time prevent a fall into the abyss. Everyone finds their own recipe for filling the emptiness. There is no single way to admire, no single way to live, no single way to grieve. One must be prepared. The whole series of work is about people dealing with grief, loneliness, artificiality and the ways they try to find escape into little (guilty) pleasures.