Living behind the door of life: I want to make a complaint

I have a fresh story of making a complaint in silence. In total, earsplitting silence:
Here I will tell a fresh story of this kind of complaint. Introduction of an artistic performance by Iranian artist named “Mahmoud Bakhshi”.

On February 17,2022, he occupied a gallery, kept it empty with only artist statement on the wall:

For second of March,
With twelve years delay,
Dedicated to (names of two political activists who have been in house arrest since twelve years ago)
As a sign of comradeship, I won’t leave my studio as well. I will block all ways of communication and won’t hold any events.

In this essay the aim is not to criticising on behalf of my country’s art scene, but for me, as someone who knows the artist in person, it was so shocking, a suicidal act. I think the the most certain and terrifying characteristic of death is being forgotten, and this artist volunteering chose to be forgotten in order to make a complaint.
This performance was one of my motivations to travel to my country. I wanted to talk to him, but wasn’t even sure if he accept visitors. So, I took a risk, took a taxi, asked the driver to wait for me. Fortunately he accepted visitors and we talked. I won’t deliver his words, but prefer to share an experience of being in his world for couple of hours; that feeling of passing life on the other side of the door and still choose not living it. Struggling with fear, doubt, loneliness and still insist on making complaint in silence.

For me, it was a breathtaking experience; this self-willed solitude for protecting a belief is respectful. I know I will think about it as long as this performance continues, and will whisper to myself:

Be brave enough to complaint .

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