إيليان عبابنة

“Loneliness grows around them, like mould or fur, a prophylactic that inhibits contact, no matter how badly contact is desired.”
― Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone

“ظل الاطمئنان الكامل هو جوهر ما يبحث عنه أمل في علاقاته، ولهذا اتسمت صداقاته دائما بالمسافة التي تمنحه في لحظات الثقة امكانية الرؤية، وتمنعه من ذلك الالتصاق النفسي بأحد.. فهو لا يبحث عن سند خارج ذاته، بعد أن اكسبته مرارة الأيام قدرا كبيرا من انعدام الثقة.. وأكسبته أيضا درسا حول السفن الغارقة التي لا بد وأن يفر منها الآخرون.”
― عبلة الرويني, الجنوبي

“It seems funny to think that healing or coming to terms with loneliness and loss, or with the damage accrued in scenes of closeness, the inevitable wounds that occur whenever people become entangled with one another, might take place by means of objects. It seems funny, and yet the more I thought about it the more prevalent it was. People make things – make art or things that are akin to art – as a way of expressing their need for contact, or their fear of it; people make objects as a way of coming to terms with shame, with grief. People make objects to strip themselves down, to survey their scars, and people make objects to resist oppression, to create a space in which they can move freely. Art doesn’t have to have a reparative function, any more than it has a duty to be beautiful or moral. All the same, there is art that gestures towards repair; that, like Wojnarowicz’s stitched loaf of bread, traverses the fragile space between separation and connection.”
― Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone

“لعَيْنَيْكِ ما يَلقَى الفُؤادُ وَمَا لَقي ..وللحُبّ ما لم يَبقَ منّي وما بَقي
وَما كنتُ ممّنْ يَدْخُلُ العِشْقُ قلبَه..وَلكِنّ مَن يُبصِرْ جفونَكِ يَعشَقِ”
― المتنبي