I am going through the abandoned chicken stable. When I was a child, hundreds of hens were crowded together. Three in a cage of 50/50/50cm. The air was filled with their noise and the smell of muck. But I had no thoughts on the cruelty of their living conditions. One of my duties was to feed them and collect the eggs.
Years later, my father became sick, but my mother refused to sell the chicken. One night a weasel crept into the stable and killed dozens of them. The rest was brought to a farm in the neighbourhood. After spending their whole life in a narrow cage, they now had a meodow, ground,light and fresh air. At the beginning, they felt fear on their new freedom and stayed inside.
When I am going today through the stable, there is silence. Dust and spinweb everywhere. But in my memory I am the young boy, collecting eggs and feeding the chicken.
Limited edition of 10, 650$, other sizes available