NATURAL IS THE SCENE OF THE CRIME
Every city presents apparently undistinguished places like janitor's lodges, halls, garages and gardens stuck into concrete. In these waiting rooms of our domestic intimacy, the natural element has been made, organized and managed by man in order to create continuity with the world which he originates from.
This permutation of the natural element's origin and destination has got out of hand to creators' purposes. Nature has entered man's desire and then it has been transfigured, becoming often a ravine where to feel dizzy and discouraged.
These places are apparently friendly and close, and scary at the same time.
The human kind's unceasing effort to domesticate nature - as everything else - overlaps the tenacious nature's struggle for survive.
The outcome is that in a perpetual turnover of meanings, the natural element seems artificial and simultaneously the artificial element confuse us and seems natural.
We're getting blind and deaf to the claims of our "need of nature", and in spite of that, or may be because of that, we try to preserve it as a part of our life, at all costs.
As in a scene of the crime, the natural meanings' cycle is interrupted. Only next morning, space could be deciphered.