Feriancová, Petra: Personale (some notes)


Consciousness and creativity

are unobtainable for beings, for safety and to ensure demise.

I am an entity, a subject

There are so many.

An identical being doesn’t exist, not even the most primitive one.

Maternity/parenthood is thus far the most revolutionary and the most legitimate, because it is our own competition with God's activity, and it gets us the closest to the concept of immortality, which, on the other hand, only confirms the necessity of demise.

Creating new life in one’s own image and at the same time distancing oneself from it.

I am unique.

Even though some beings reproduce by dividing and do not leave behind a dead body of the mother, even though some animals are able to change gender, species, and even their own reproductive age, even though there is some kind of immortality, whether in the ability to restore body or age.

Demise is still inevitable. And it is eternal.

Communication with ancestors.

Communication with offspring.


We have to empathize.

To filter like Porifera.

We have to flee.

Mimicry and Legendary Psychastenia.

We can change color like octopuses and Erinyes

We can die with atrophied mouths like butterflies and moths, whose reproductive period is the precursor to their end.

We can be immortal like Hydra, unless we become mothers. (1) We are all different.

Also animals, plants. Different in appearance. (When you look at animals of the same kind, they are different, and if you do not see it, then you are just not looking properly, you cannot see the differences within their kind, you cannot see stems of grass within a field) you just cannot see it. (2)

Or can you?


I can see the plants growing from behind the window,

But I can't listen to the wind.

I am the mother of three.

I have two hours daily.

I will look at the world for you, my father.

I will even take my eyes out and let myself be lead, and I will tell you about it.

I cannot go back.

The outside world does not exist.

Or it already filled her up so much, that she is happy hidden inside.

She only hears a distant mutter from her uterus.

Instead of eyes two volcanoes.

Sometimes an eruption.

Still seeing, though.

Through Antigona’s eyes.

(1) If they cut you in the half which part does it hurt more?

The one you lost?


the one you lost? --