If you had to choose between security and aliveness, which would you go for? This and other questions come to mind, and when I answer, I try to listen to myself very carefully. I want to understand where my answers... Read More
If you had to choose between security and aliveness, which would you go for? This and other questions come to mind, and when I answer, I try to listen to myself very carefully. I want to understand where my answers come from and the motivations that lie beneath them. Is it trust? Fear? Inspiration? Laziness? But I was not always able to do so. There was once a time when I held onto the illusion that I knew it all. My life began in 1979. I was raised in the “Life is not a bed of roses” mind-set plus a healthy dose of patriotism (which I later learned to be a marriage of racism and nationalism). Until the age of 29, I lived in Lithuania, which was in constant motion. When I was born, Lithuania was part of the Soviet Union, and from 1987 to 1990, I witnessed the fight for so-called independence, characterised by complete chaos and the collapse of the economy. A few years later, a new beginning came for some, and we called it democracy. In this context, I graduated from school and university, and eventually, I earned my master’s degree in architecture. I worked to establish my own architectural firm in 2005, bought real estate, and played at being a responsible adult. What else could I do? Was there ever even a choice? Nearly every one I knew followed the same path: gain financial security and surround oneself with others for recognition, self-esteem, and the illusion of not being alone. So I went with the flow, and I must say, I was pretty good at it.By early 2007, I had achieved everything I had reached for. I was an architect with a growing company and was recognised in prestigious professional circles; I had a fresh romantic relationship, lots of friends, followers, and leeches. Strangely enough, none of this brought me the expected fulfilment or happiness. Instead, I felt like I was repeating myself day after day. Achievement through financial success and social recognition simply couldn’t quiet the urge for something I couldn’t quite name yet. I found myself contemplating the choices I had made in my life and doubting the ideas of happiness and the end goals that I was pursuing.I knew that the artificial life was over. I had to try it on to know that it wasn’t for me. As I see it now, I was hungry for something real—to feel alive, to be free. I was longing for experiences, for real emotions, and for opportunities to connect and share myself with the world.So, in late 2007, I took my first step in search of all this. I was entering unknown and unexplored territory. I was scared and unsure about the absence of the security that I was leaving behind: my habits, my ideas about life, my comfort zone, and my cultural, social, and professional identities. And although I was taking a step, I knew it was going to be (and still is) quite a hike. But each step brings me closer to becoming real. One of my steps was Exhibition in Kaunas castle 2008 called "Sensitivity", other steps brought me in places and spaces I was not aware of it's existence.I have learned through all this that security doesn’t exist. The notion of it that I was holding onto was a fiction. It is impossible to control and live life. Something always comes up and nothing turns out exactly as expected. Realising this, I was happy to discover that I had found the answer to that first question: What would I choose: aliveness or security? It had become very clear to me: There is no choice.Interested in learning about my journey? Immerse yourself in my experiences, discoveries, and adventures by exploring my gallery and writings.