The world is motion, everything moves. Even art is not a mirror but motion. I understood this myself when I felt that my work as a graphic artist, which I studied for, was not giving me answers and the right satisfaction. That is why for three years of research, I didn’t get enough from flat visions but was intrigued and seduced by motions and plastic visions. This inner motion of mine was also conditioned with existential concerns which I experienced every day as I was observing the tragic news on the refugees: long lines that wandered from the Orient toward Europe conjointly, with the overcrowded ships with sorrowed people crossing the Mediterranean. I recalled similar confessions of the evicted Kosovars, that long walk of my parents’ generation, in 1999…

The question I was asking “What’s this Long Walk?” that was transforming everything around me into red: the water, flowers, everybody, it even made you and me feel scared and intimidated?! I understood that the question was universal and posed the enigma of daily strolling by every creature, every individual. From our birth until the end of our life cycle, we almost persistently move from the known and experienced toward the unknown and inexperienced. Is it inevitable that by searching for peace, happiness and a better life, so many defeats of forced and violent journeys happen?

I bled long for a metamorphosis viewpoint that would give way to dualism, the power of survival. It seemed to me that intuitively that I was in search of goats’ legs or the flock of goats that survive even in the most extreme conditions of existence — on steep cliffs with a few bushes on which they feed. Goats, as I know, are not born with the inherited instinct of climbing cliffs but develop this ability from the need of survival.

In my project, I made 10 sculptures with organic materials, thus 10 goats, where the focus was concentrated on their legs, this survival weapon.