The exhibition Pet Cemetery is largely an open contemplation on the notion of immanence.
I feel almost like my life has come to an end, or that I finally understand the enormous weight that is the passing of time. I am seeing death differently now, it becomes more mysterious with each passing day.
Two friends and I visited an unofficial pet cemetery on one of the last days of our summer holiday in Kiev. After walking through a few dilapidated housing complexes and past forgotten train stations, headstones started to peak out at us from behind patches of dusty shrubbery. The cemetery is situated next to a highway with a huge overpass. We split up. Emmy disappeared within moments behind some tall grass to look at the first row of stones. I tramped a bit further in, wondering if this was a foolish idea and if I’d accidentally step on a used needle or something. The graves were close together and amongst detritus so you had to really look where you were stepping. Each headstone portrayed the animal that rested underneath with a portrait image or an engraving and of course, a name. Their names were in Ukrainian so I only figured out a few. Cema the cat. Tim the Rottweiler. Charlie, a chinchilla. Some pets were buried together. Some graves looked really expensive and well-kept while others were fully disappearing back into the earth.
The three of us reconvened at the end of the last row.
“I’m fucking devastated right now.”
“Why is this so much sadder than a normal graveyard?”
“I don’t know, it just feels more real I guess.”