When the night arrives the child comes outside to play with the beasts.
What is there for the children who are not born yet? How will they interact in a world of uncertainty amongst themselves? Will they grow up and turn into drug addicts, junkies, pot heads, whores, womanizers, scum? No matter how little or how much their parents loved them, they will still feel empty and not good enough. Then they will turn into deformed beings that want to dismantle the lies and trash fed to them like pedigree, and they will roar in the dark under flashing lights of coloured filters, sweat and share the illusion of freedom until it all becomes a part of who they are, who they think they are… they’ll feel happy puking glitter, masturbating because why not? “the gods resemble to us, we created them after all”, they’d say. Then when the day arrives 10 hours late again, they will complain about adults and their own humanity, for they have accepted their species is evil and some have actually embraced the idea…others fight it…others don’t care. The children, what will be of them when they fully grow up? Does that actually ever happen to children? Do they truly grow up or is it just a misunderstanding?
Elicia Edijanto is an extraordinary artist from Indonesia who specializes in watercolours to create beautiful illustrations that recite silent verses of hope, like reminders to not discard one’s inner child because innocence is never lost. She introduces each illustration with curated quotes mainly from authors such as Hemingway. The illustrations is also titled so that the narrative is even more straight forward, reinforcing the message to avoid misunderstandings. Nostalgic notes are observed in the composition of the paintings, each protagonized or antagonized by a human offspring and an individual of another species. The nature of life is rendered in black and white while both creatures share a moment, a reflection of the goodness that persists regardless of nihilism and the food chain.
You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.
And after all the falls are done, we must rise again –
I’m the blood, I’m the key
Let them born into this world,
Let them sing into the sky
Oh, this is her, by the way. A beautiful woman with a beautiful craft.