SERIES
The Spike of the Opuntia
Fraternize
Beyond Blame
But hey, I’m trying
Out of _
SMIRK
The hands that build me
FILMS
Mature for her age
I am sorry
Suicide and song
About grief
others
EXHIBITIONS
Royal Academy of Arts (KABK)
About me
Contact
History repeats itself, and I keep wondering how many cures we will be offered when what we really need is time and space to heal.
In 1937, newspapers wrote about a Smile Club in Budapest, where people were supposedly taught how to smile in response to the sadness that had settled over the city. The story was largely fictional, but the idea stayed with me. Instead of asking why people were unhappy, the answer was to teach them how to look happy. I travelled to Hungary with this story in mind and spoke with locals about mental health, sadness and a history whose effects are still present.
Mental health was already close to me. I took antidepressants for a period of my life, and I needed them. At the time, the pain was too heavy for me to work through, and medication gave me enough distance from it to keep going. But making pain quieter is not always the same as healing it. I began to notice how easily relief can become a way of postponing what still needs attention. Trying the Smile Club exercises on myself brought me back to that thought: changing what can be seen from the outside does not necessarily change what is happening underneath. Sometimes looking okay is easier, and even more socially accepted, than being given the time and support to actually heal.
THE SMILE CLUB