Back toAnd going on…, a mailart-project with dr. Julius
Autumn 2024 I received a request in my mailbox regarding a mailart project with dr. Julius art projects in Berlin (DE). To celebrate their 100th exhibition at their gallery, they wanted to look forward instead of looking back at the development of drj since 2008. Therefor they started this participative Mail Art project with the main question to mail a physical postcard answering the question “what keeps you going?”
My contribution existed of a letter with the word ‘HOPE’ punctured in the paper including a statement of what this word means to me as a person and as an artist.
See for full text here / scroll down
The full invitation was as follows:
“Facing the countless crises of our times, ranging from the disintegration of local cultural landscapes, the upheavals in various societies, a rising number of armed conflicts and fascist-authoritarian tendencies worldwide, to the global climate catastrophe that can obviously no longer be reversed, we want to look ahead all the more. In our exchange of thoughts and ongoing conversations with creative minds worldwide, we have noticed that many of us are constantly and increasingly asking ourselves fundamental questions, like: »How do I continue despite all of this? What is the meaningful relevance of my work? How do I manage to stay motivated?« etc. And the vast majority of us find individual answers to these questions almost every day. …and going on. thus is a project that aims to demonstrate the many different ways to keep going ahead, reaching from personal inner struggle to the deep resolve to carry on.
The question »What keeps YOU going?«, answered in a variety of ways by all of these who, like us, have a very specific interest in the examination of intellectual concepts and their transfer into works of art, will bring together a very special selection of artistic thoughts, attitudes, approaches, ideas and works, we are convinced. And the collective statement that emerges from this, will be a kind of Gesamtkunstwerk, consisting of all the people committing, the content and the medium, as well as the time and space of the exhibition. Created from the contributions of a wide range of actors in this artistic field, it will be a valuable expression of the creative and resistant power of art per se.
As a contemporary document from late 2024 and early 2025, it will also and especially be a cross-section of ideas and concepts that inspire hope against the adversities of the world as it appears today, we believe.”
view of my work on display at dr. Julius art projects
(and original invite below)
The Hague, NL
December 2024
Dear dr-j,
Thank you for initiating this Gesamtkunstwerk. Over the past months I have been thinking a great deal about the state of the world, particularly about how quickly people, politics, and ideas seem to have hardened. I’ve been contemplating my role in all of this—both as an artist and as a human being. You asked me to send a letter as mail-art, sharing with you what keeps me going…
I have punctured small holes in the front of this letter, creating the word HOPE in braille-like bumps. If you run your fingers over the surface, you’ll feel the word, and if you hold the letter up to the light, you might see the light filtering through the holes. However, the bumps may have been flattened during the mailing process, making it harder to feel or see the word. Even so, HOPE remains there, fragile and subtle.
Hope might feel feeble and can easily be suppressed or pushed back by events and circumstances. Yet it is crucial to allow light to enter. Without hope— in God, in forgiveness, in the inherent goodness of people, or the belief that we are able to accomplish beautiful things if we work together—it’s all too easy to become cynical and rigid.
For me, hope isn’t just a feeling. It’s a verb. Just like love and faith, hope requires action and needs to be fed. Nick Cave said, “Unlike cynicism, hopefulness is harder. It makes demands upon us and can often feel like the most indefensible and lonely place on earth. Hopefulness is not a neutral position, it is adversarial.”
In my daily life, I try to counter hopelessness through curiosity, presence, and re-imagining—principles that also shape my work. Curiosity allows me to listen to others and see the world through their eyes, recognizing that everyone has a unique story to tell. Being present means making time for others, even when it feels uncomfortable, fostering understanding and challenging my own limited perspectives. In my creative process, curiosity helps me explore new ideas and materials, while presence keeps me focused on the actual labour, trying over and over again.
Our world is shaped by imagination. When divisions and conflicts seem insurmountable, and repeated disappointments make hope seem impossible, it’s easy to give up. But as artists, our role is to re-imagine, to think in possibilities, and to create connections where none exist. I don’t believe art must always be activist or overtly political to make an impact. In fact, being an artist, thinking freely, is itself a political act—especially in times when the (non-commercial) value of art seems to be diminishing, at least in The Netherlands.
This is why I believe we must continue to risk hope. Both in our work – and personal lives. We must be willing to take the risk of being hurt, disappointed, or misunderstood. But we must never give up the dialogue. Each small, loving act—whether it’s balancing indifference with genuine concern and action, showing curiosity toward someone from a different “bubble,” or simply offering a smile or a listening ear to a neighbor—can spark a flame of joy and renew hope. These small acts of kindness can help hope take root and continue to grow.
So, I continue to risk hope, to nourish it in my life and in my work. Because even in the face of everything that is going on right now, to me, it is a way forward.
With gratitude,
Zaida Oenema