iisa maaranen

The shelf is full of cardboard boxes with a varying number of circles on them. The shape of the circle is interesting. Its trajectory seems so natural. It’s easy to understand why the circle depicts eternity or perfect continuity in so many mythologies. My brush also curves naturally into the shape of the circle, and even my three-year-old nephew tries to form the same shape on the drawing paper. 

 

It is almost like the circle was the original form.

 

My circles are cylinders, which look like circles when viewed from the front. I have mainly arranged them into boxes according to their colour. Most cylinders are bright, while others are more overshadowing, blanketed, transparent; some stronger, others weaker. Some of them form groups that stay put in their drawer. It’s as if they do not want, dare or are unable to interact with others like them. Never coming in contact with each other.

 

Yet they ultimately revert to the same form.

 

And the blue bird sits on the side of the pallet, chirping.