They say that when we leave home, we take our gods with us. But what if, along with them, we also carried away our demons?
This installation is about the exhaustion that comes after a feverish game with the unknown. When a person finds themselves in a new space and rushes to create, celebrate, and build, they are playing. They think it is their game, their will. But in reality, they are only a figure in the game of ancient forces they have encountered: forces like Bichura, a mischievous, playful spirit who stirs up chaos, and Ubyr, who drains life energy.
The prize in this game is not an easy, happy life, but transformation. Into a log.
The title of the work, enough playing; it’s bedtime, turns a familiar parental phrase into the merciless sentence of an unknown force. The game is over, but instead of rest, paralysis begins.
The inscription “көт” (“wait”) under the blanket is a sentence. Wait for sleep that will not come. Wait for healing. Wait for the continuation of the game.
The viewer can lie down next to the log. Feel this weight, share this insomnia, and perhaps laugh at the situation. In a liminal space, irony is a way not to become a log completely.