Things are constantly happening in the world in an awful way. Modern life is riddled with information products that consume people's time and attention, so it is considered hygienic to ignore the ideas, words, and images that upset us. War disrupts the narrative. War shatters, blocks, crushes, and interrupts patterns, burning dreams, plans and ambitions into its crucible. Continuing day after day, the war leaves its victims in a liminal chronotope: we are no longer there, but still not here; not then, but not now, and certainly not later. How long will we be here? And when will we be back? While war authentically and chronically shocks the average citizens on a daily basis, leaving them in a stultifying passive apathy, the artists calculates minute by minute the strength of how loud their voice will be, and how close to the abyss they can get while remaining trapped in their impelled liminality.

Interrupted means not completed. Interrupted means abandoned between two states, in unspokenness, in uncertainty, in unpredictability.

An artist always remains an artist. We ran away never losing ourselves. We remained, warmed by dissent. Our faith lights the way for us. We are not broken or fractured. A sense of home lives in each of us, an inner conflict rips outward and our memories gently blossom. A blue-sky haze of memories overlays the new life, revealing what has been interrupted. Our memories envelop, pulsate, suffocate, surge, and carry us in a sweet waltz. Things were different when they were once different. INTER::RUPTED will show and tell you what it's all about. In a carefree city in a small, very limited space, the exhibition brings together the artists' memories of what came before and what could not fail to happen during the last 18 months of their artistic destiny. Perhaps you have other plans for the weekend? They all had grand plans too. They all have something to remember about the last year and a half.