인스타그램 스토리 저장

A HUGE THANK YOU TO MY SELF😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 MASHALLAH! IM SO SO OVERWHELMED❤️ MY DEEPEST EMOTIONS ARE BEING REVEALED IN THIS WORK AND IT FEELS EXTRA LET ME JUST SAY THAT. THANK YOU ALLAH FOR HAVING MY BACK AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN✨

A HUGE THANK YOU TO MY SELF😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 MASHALLAH! IM SO SO OVERWHELMED❤️ MY DEEPEST EMOTIONS ARE BEING REVEALED IN THIS WORK AND IT FEELS EXTRA LET ME JUST SAY THAT. THANK YOU ALLAH FOR HAVING MY BACK AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN✨

A HUGE THANK YOU TO MY SELF😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 MASHALLAH! IM SO SO OVERWHELMED❤️ MY DEEPEST EMOTIONS ARE BEING REVEALED IN THIS WORK AND IT FEELS EXTRA LET ME JUST SAY THAT. THANK YOU ALLAH FOR HAVING MY BACK AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN✨

A HUGE THANK YOU TO MY SELF😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 MASHALLAH! IM SO SO OVERWHELMED❤️ MY DEEPEST EMOTIONS ARE BEING REVEALED IN THIS WORK AND IT FEELS EXTRA LET ME JUST SAY THAT. THANK YOU ALLAH FOR HAVING MY BACK AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN✨

HARD SHELL SOFT SOUL
2025

BLOWN GLASS, GLUE, STAINLESS STEEL FRAME

HARD SHELL SOFT SOUL
2025

BLOWN GLASS, GLUE, STAINLESS STEEL FRAME

HARD SHELL SOFT SOUL
2025

BLOWN GLASS, GLUE, STAINLESS STEEL FRAME

We are excited to announce our next exhibition: don’t hate the player - hate the game by Sahar Jamili @me_unit

Opening Friday 07.03.25, 6-9pm

“’don’t hate the player - hate the game’ is a space
of resistance—against the ways society tries to silence
marginalized voices, against the expectations imposed
on bodies that refuse to conform. Through objects,
images, and the tensions between them, I explore how
meaning shifts depending on context, just as people’s
identities and narratives are shaped by the gaze of
others.” Statement by the artist.

Supported by #NørrebroLokaludvalg, @statenskunstfond and Grosserer L. F. Foghts Fond.

Tak til mig selv for at ha overlevet det her liv så længe, det er fandme en kunst i sig selv, for det er ikke for sjovt og det er ikke retfærdigt. Derudover så tak til statenskunstfond for det nye 2 års arbejdslegat, så jeg kan blive ved med ikke at gi en fuck selvom jeg gør🫠 ps. leder efter nyt atelier efter sommer, please hjælp mig.

Tak til mig selv for at ha overlevet det her liv så længe, det er fandme en kunst i sig selv, for det er ikke for sjovt og det er ikke retfærdigt. Derudover så tak til statenskunstfond for det nye 2 års arbejdslegat, så jeg kan blive ved med ikke at gi en fuck selvom jeg gør🫠 ps. leder efter nyt atelier efter sommer, please hjælp mig.

WOULD YOU BELIVE ME IF I TOLD YOU THAT REAL ART IS INVISIBLE?????????

SEE U THERE omg photo by bb @livscyklus

ROYAL DANSK

ROYAL DANSK

NOTHING VIOLENT STAYS CONTAINED

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

DONT HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME

@inter.pblc

Photos by @briankurefoto

All i am, (researching the shit out off my self)

Im really trying to understand the memories that I keep holding that tells me the stories of who I am or who I think I am or who I want to be. Being born in a place and sometimes feeling you don’t belong and then going somewhere that’s suppose to be your other home which is also not really your home. What is left of me and how do I understand this feeling of belonging. Belonging. Longing. Longing for something that could have not been.

Porcelain figures from the USSR that my father bought decades ago in Azerbaijan. My grandmother kept them in her basements for years in Baku where my mom grew up and now they are with me in Copenhagen, my city.

All i am, (researching the shit out off my self)

Im really trying to understand the memories that I keep holding that tells me the stories of who I am or who I think I am or who I want to be. Being born in a place and sometimes feeling you don’t belong and then going somewhere that’s suppose to be your other home which is also not really your home. What is left of me and how do I understand this feeling of belonging. Belonging. Longing. Longing for something that could have not been.

Porcelain figures from the USSR that my father bought decades ago in Azerbaijan. My grandmother kept them in her basements for years in Baku where my mom grew up and now they are with me in Copenhagen, my city.

All i am, (researching the shit out off my self)

Im really trying to understand the memories that I keep holding that tells me the stories of who I am or who I think I am or who I want to be. Being born in a place and sometimes feeling you don’t belong and then going somewhere that’s suppose to be your other home which is also not really your home. What is left of me and how do I understand this feeling of belonging. Belonging. Longing. Longing for something that could have not been.

Porcelain figures from the USSR that my father bought decades ago in Azerbaijan. My grandmother kept them in her basements for years in Baku where my mom grew up and now they are with me in Copenhagen, my city.

All i am, (researching the shit out off my self)

Im really trying to understand the memories that I keep holding that tells me the stories of who I am or who I think I am or who I want to be. Being born in a place and sometimes feeling you don’t belong and then going somewhere that’s suppose to be your other home which is also not really your home. What is left of me and how do I understand this feeling of belonging. Belonging. Longing. Longing for something that could have not been.

Porcelain figures from the USSR that my father bought decades ago in Azerbaijan. My grandmother kept them in her basements for years in Baku where my mom grew up and now they are with me in Copenhagen, my city.

All i am, (researching the shit out off my self)

Im really trying to understand the memories that I keep holding that tells me the stories of who I am or who I think I am or who I want to be. Being born in a place and sometimes feeling you don’t belong and then going somewhere that’s suppose to be your other home which is also not really your home. What is left of me and how do I understand this feeling of belonging. Belonging. Longing. Longing for something that could have not been.

Porcelain figures from the USSR that my father bought decades ago in Azerbaijan. My grandmother kept them in her basements for years in Baku where my mom grew up and now they are with me in Copenhagen, my city.

All i am, (researching the shit out off my self)

Im really trying to understand the memories that I keep holding that tells me the stories of who I am or who I think I am or who I want to be. Being born in a place and sometimes feeling you don’t belong and then going somewhere that’s suppose to be your other home which is also not really your home. What is left of me and how do I understand this feeling of belonging. Belonging. Longing. Longing for something that could have not been.

Porcelain figures from the USSR that my father bought decades ago in Azerbaijan. My grandmother kept them in her basements for years in Baku where my mom grew up and now they are with me in Copenhagen, my city.

HARD SHELL SOFT SOUL

On view untill 23th of nov
At @gammelgaardkunst, here next to a work by Frederik Tydén

Photos by Frida Gregersen

HARD SHELL SOFT SOUL

On view untill 23th of nov
At @gammelgaardkunst, here next to a work by Frederik Tydén

Photos by Frida Gregersen

Mama, Holmbladsgade, 1995