Jeona Zoleta begins with a myriad of things: Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura, the Japanese tradition of Ikebana or “way of flowers”, the book The Jazz of Physics by Stephen Alexander, the Disney movie Anastasia, and several other television series. As she traverses the path through domesticity and motherhood, she returns to her anchor in nature and the intoxicating poetry of life. She cites the summer heat in its “intense dryness filled with noisy bugs and the quiet scent of flowers;” feels the motion of the woods as a “soul forming from a seed.”
In this quotidian frenzy, she creates with her husband a certain quiet, an installative still life, a merging of the dream-like imagery of her paintings with his carpentry and hydrophonics. Much like the process of Ikebana, one that they both shared as they prepared the decorations for their life together, there comes a semblance of settling down and arranging the world — with one’s past adventures and behaviors — the way one imagines it to be.
Her new life, literally (re) birthed as she carries her child through this earth, is where she creates slivers of moments for her artistic practice, for her own growth as an individual that is ever mutating and ever evolving but still remains the same. Domesticity, however hectic, has also brought her to a space of solace, focus and clarity. The exhaustion and the lack of time has bred in Zoleta a certain fascination and contentment for the demands of mundanity, the flow of nature, the essence of living.
Zoleta’s exhibition is a sneak peek of her work at Palais de Tokyo this June. (Iris Ferrer)