קִירוֹת דַּקִּים

Paper Walls

The series Paper Walls emerged from the void left in the wake of the massacre of October 7th. The images, created as an initial, unplanned, and raw response in the weeks that followed, act as a visual documentation of internal, painful, and complex emotions – an expression of a fleeting state of mind, reaching toward the blurred edges of both personal and collective fracture.

The series portrays liminal spaces, existing in the seam between presence and absence, between memory and forgetfulness, between life and death.

The title of the series echoes the plea, "Thin walls, hold on!" from Aviv Guedj’s song "The Quiet Star", released during the time I was working on this series. The lyrics accompanied the creative process, reflecting the tension between the yearning to escape to "the farthest star there is" and the need to cling to a fragile reality, where paper-thin walls – the doors of shelters – struggle to withstand the flood of disaster that leaves no escape.

The works reveal a world where nature and human architectural structures coexist in constant tension. The forest reclaims its dominion over ruins, turning buildings into relics – mute witnesses of a culture that rose from ashes and inevitably returns to dust. The interplay between the rigid lines of concrete, steel, and glass and the boundless organic life of the forest generates a charged, compressed visual experience. Scattered across the landscape are Leftovers of humanity – a civilization that seems simultaneously extinct and dormant, with no discernible plan or logic to their placement.

The memory represented in these works is not a clear window into the past but a fragmented, layered substrate of shards – a memory that continuously reshapes itself as one tries to grasp it. The landscape becomes a mausoleum of human presence – a space where time has stopped, yet memory continues to reverberate with a quiet, haunting intensity.