The sky was free. It contained souls that could move without limit. These spirits would flow, mix and show new formations. Sometimes these spirits visit the ground, wander within us; sometimes they continued to be an umbrella over us. I perceive the wanderings of these spirits as freedom of water. The texture of the watercolor paper becomes a base for the veins in which these spirits intertwine. How lightning flashes and all the sky darkens when the different characters of each soul meet each other; The different dyes on the paper, floating in the water, are broken, streaked and knitted when they come across. I tried to define different paths to the paints that I used in the water, bent the floor, bent it, poured it, changed its angle. However, the paint also leaked to someone else as he wanted, mixed. No matter how many attempts were made to define its path, the paint floating in the water was free, just like the spirits in the sky, they found their own way.
acts of drawing 