ART MARKET: A Brief Application to Claim What Is Rightfully Mine
On an evening when the chaos and anxieties have been swept away by the current, I find myself looking for something to relax. It feels as if I’m watching the inside of the house and my mind from a surveillance camera on a hill. A player controlling my hands turns on the console, opens the most recently saved file, and starts a new mission. In the game, I have gained many enemies and friends. There are those who will attack me on sight, those who will never leave my side, as well as those who will ask how I am and how my life is going. It feels like I haven’t played this game for a long time, and as I watch everything from above and from my own eyes, my parched throat directs me to the kitchen. Whatever it is that I surrender to, it controls me without making me feel anything. I remember that this might be related to my fatigue or boredom, but I don’t want to admit that I’ve been like this for days.
When I leave the kitchen and head back to the living room, or rather when I am directed there, I see traces of a pair of shoes that have stepped on some hard pieces of tree bark and grass on the wooden floor. These clues, which I missed in the dim light, become visible thanks to the white light of the kitchen. I follow them to the south-facing wall of the living room. The tracks disappear where the wall and floor meet, and I see some small pieces of tree bark caught on the curtain. With curiosity and apprehension, I part the curtain, unsure of what I will find. Across the way, about six adult sword-lengths from my house, I see shadows inside the abandoned house. According to what I’ve heard, a large family lived there 20 years ago: 5 siblings, a mother, a father, and two dogs. One day, two of the siblings decided to leave and move to another city, followed later by the other three, each settling in different cities and towns. The mother and father, left alone, set sail one winter day and never returned. Since that day, none of the children have visited the house, nor have they wondered whether their parents left it to them. These are the only things I remember from the stories, and I’ve been watching this two-story wooden house decay across from my home for years. I never dared to go inside or even felt curious about it. Abandoned houses have always seemed frightening to me.
I know very well why I’m telling all this and why I’m talking so much about that house. My rising curiosity about it over the years, the gaps in its story, what might have happened within the family, and what stories the objects inside the house might hold have always excited me. I’m not going to suppress the questions that arise in my mind; I won’t abandon this adventure that can make me feel alive. Swimming that distance, which seems long now but is short from a bird’s-eye view, and letting the player asleep in my mind take control—can this really make me feel it?
2336 × 2592, MP4, 27 sec August, 2024 by Demon Ego
(First video artwork of Demon.)