I find it a daunting task to write about my own work, and yet I felt the need to put one of my recently completed (and most personal) series into words, not to provide answers or explanations, but rather to confirm the presence of restless ‘phantasms’ that I came across while assembling these collages. The following paragraph can be viewed as a synopsis for a lost, imaginary film existing only in the remaining 26 frames.
A transmutation of despair into evasive shimmers of incessantly crumbling hope, ‘Melancholia (Non) Grata’ strives to capture (the artist’s) transitional states, both mental and emotional, veiling them in the persistent silence of clouds / light, and wistful blissfulness of sepia tones. The square format of each piece may create and maintain the illusion of stability, but the oneiric nature of compositions betrays and emphasizes the unwavering uncertainty of exploratory wanderings. On the dirt road towards the void of the future, amongst the ruins of half-remembered memories, inside the locked rooms of the subconscious mind, and above the reflecting surfaces of comforting dreams, dust-covered ‘marionettes’ perform an endless play for death...
Anemoia Paranoia: A Chronicle of Despair
Implosive Ascension According to the Boy's Dream
The Incredible Flexibility of Her Fancy
A Portrait of Longing Painted with Clouds
The Absence of I in the Egg of the Universe
A Secondhand Band-Aid for the Lost Time Drifter
Looking for Hope Lost During the Last Eclipse
Rejoice! The House of Cards Is Crumbling Down
Triangular Resentment of the Innocents
Her Mind Was Bright, His Heart Was a Piece of Junk
Three Wisecrackers on Their Way to Meet the Void
Primordial Phantasm, or the Perks of Puppetry
Hopelessness, the Most Effective Modus Operandi
Sitting There Alone, Searching for the Storm
Following the Snail's Trail in the Morning of the Zero Day
The Insidious Consistency of Wrong Moves
She Never Revealed the Secret of Her Undying Obsession
The Seventh Configuration: A Dual Soul
That Peculiar Specimen in the Butterfly Collection
Can't You Hear the Sweetest of Whispers?
An Elliptical Delusion of a Heavy Heart
A Hidden Message Left in a Suicide Note
Like Walking on Water, Only Faster
The Day Icarus Forgot to Fly
The Futility of Pulling 'X' Towards Oneself
... in Which the Children's Voices Are Never Heard
No comments:
Post a Comment