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sixteenth Ω
2026 - 54x77cm - Ink on Canvas
“I lean over you, your equal, offering you a mirror for your perfect nothingness, for your shadows which are neither light nor absence of light, for this void which contemplates. To all that which you are, and, for our language, are not, I add a consciousness. I make you experience your supreme identity as a relationship, I name you and define you. You become a delicious passivity.
To see was terrifying, and to stop seeing tore me apart from my forehead to my throat.”
M. Blanchot
“I lean over you, your equal, offering you a mirror for your perfect nothingness, for your shadows which are neither light nor absence of light, for this void which contemplates. To all that which you are, and, for our language, are not, I add a consciousness. I make you experience your supreme identity as a relationship, I name you and define you. You become a delicious passivity.
To see was terrifying, and to stop seeing tore me apart from my forehead to my throat.”
M. Blanchot
second
2026 - 77x100cm - Ink on Canvas
sixteenth, movement: one
2026 - 20x15,5cm - Ink on Paper
fifteenth, movement: two
2026 - Ink on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
seventh
2024 - 21x30cm - Ink on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
thirteenth
2025 - 26x40cm - Ink on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
twelfth
2024 - 29,5x21cm - Ink and Oils on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
ninth
2025 - 54x77cm - Pure Essence on Canvas
(Private Collection)
THE MOMENTS REPOSE
AWOKE EYES OF ICE
IN VISON FROZE, FROZE
THE MELTING WORLD
ALL IS AROUND
BUT WITHIN IS BARREN, IS BARREN
Drying the water
Anchor me in ice
Mirror of the reaper
The arrow of my eyes...
(Private Collection)
THE MOMENTS REPOSE
AWOKE EYES OF ICE
IN VISON FROZE, FROZE
THE MELTING WORLD
ALL IS AROUND
BUT WITHIN IS BARREN, IS BARREN
Drying the water
Anchor me in ice
Mirror of the reaper
The arrow of my eyes...
If time were fleeting,
The heralds to let go,
But time is water
Freezing as it flows
Slow, beating pendulum
Don’t measure time
I’ll sink the heavens
While reaching for the dawn
Seven eyes sewn open, bestows
As above, so below
Water mirrors and the stillness grows…
The heralds to let go,
But time is water
Freezing as it flows
Slow, beating pendulum
Don’t measure time
I’ll sink the heavens
While reaching for the dawn
Seven eyes sewn open, bestows
As above, so below
Water mirrors and the stillness grows…
eleventh
2024 - 24x40cm - Ink and Acrylics and Oils and Blood and Gore on Wood
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
wavelenght
2021 - 29,5x21cm (53x53 framed) - Ink on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
eighteenth, movement: one
2026 - 21x27cm - Ink and Acrylics on Paper
fifth
2024 - 21x30cm - Ink on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
fifteenth, movement: one
2026 - Ink on Paper
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
third
2024 - 60x100cm - Ink on Canvas
(Private Collection)
Alienation got the better of me, but I've learned to ride the waves in time.
They were looking at me and it was a hellish stare...
It still is.
Despite all the disturbance, I chose the choice of looking back through the spectacle.
To the eye of the unliving. The eye of never born.
Perception of a dead space: It was everything that never meant to be alive. At that very moment, I found the act:
That eye watches me,
the mouth speaks to me,
the tongue pierces through me...
(Private Collection)
Alienation got the better of me, but I've learned to ride the waves in time.
They were looking at me and it was a hellish stare...
It still is.
Despite all the disturbance, I chose the choice of looking back through the spectacle.
To the eye of the unliving. The eye of never born.
Perception of a dead space: It was everything that never meant to be alive. At that very moment, I found the act:
That eye watches me,
the mouth speaks to me,
the tongue pierces through me...
The eyes of the stone were the culprit who were tormenting me for all these years. With that clarity, I stopped running around like a headless chicken even though it was tormenting, I looked back, and when I looked more, I saw the vision within the reflection of its eyes... In order to perceive abstract as material, without emotion or any calculation. Although we have made decisions and choices as "creatures of free will", we've been only taking the shape of our containers as the liquids pouring inside. "free" and "will" are the other two words we use... Noises, voices, reflections of our abstract thought processes. Electrochemical sources supply our ideas after certain mechanical outcomes.
"Philosophical zombies" would be an understatement to celebrate this factual situation: we are literal zombies.
We are born and die, but never live.
"Philosophical zombies" would be an understatement to celebrate this factual situation: we are literal zombies.
We are born and die, but never live.
sixteenth, movement: two
2026 - 17,5x26cm - Ink on Paper
sixth
2024 - 12x28cm - Ink on paper
Whatever we try
-Branches throughout the will of man-Yet, still to accomplish nothing.
All is barren, all is barren.
aimless, in vain, into the cold.
Into the whatever...
Even though you could live forever just as if you were never born...
still... That's what it is
and it is okay to be aimless...
Whatever we try
-Branches throughout the will of man-Yet, still to accomplish nothing.
All is barren, all is barren.
aimless, in vain, into the cold.
Into the whatever...
Even though you could live forever just as if you were never born...
still... That's what it is
and it is okay to be aimless...
eighteenth, movement: two
2026 - 22x30cm - Ink and Acrylics on Paper
A razor comes down, slicing the spine in half. Like cold cold waters, the body shivers at first, then you sense that you're colder than the water sliding down beneath your skin. All of a sudden, you're facing a steel-cool reality: the steel is reflecting you, and you reflect the steel back. As a veteran at this point, knowing this face-off is only temporary... Either way, even if you are content to stay this way, being content means nothing in front of this disorientation. You're nothing in the eyes of the stone. There is only steel reflecting you, and you reflect the steel back.
A razor comes down, slicing the spine in half. Like cold cold waters, the body shivers at first, then you sense that you're colder than the water sliding down beneath your skin. All of a sudden, you're facing a steel-cool reality: the steel is reflecting you, and you reflect the steel back. As a veteran at this point, knowing this face-off is only temporary... Either way, even if you are content to stay this way, being content means nothing in front of this disorientation. You're nothing in the eyes of the stone. There is only steel reflecting you, and you reflect the steel back.
fourth
2024 - 19x30cm - Ink on Wood
(Private Collection)
(Private Collection)
eighth
2024 - 20x30cm - Ink and Acrylics on Wood (Private Collection)
tenth
2024 - 40x60cm - Ink on Paper
How long have you been
Lost down here?
Lost down here?
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