Εssay by Evita Tsokanta about the work of Jacqueline Lentzou

“And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears,
I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

Dylan Thomas

There is an eerie sense of time dilation in certain stages of a day. At dawn, before human activity comes through the window or at “a beautiful dusk that enhances everything[1]”. During those times, presence acquires a self-consciousness that renders meaning-making the only noteworthy…