Naked Truth

Exploring the concept of ‘creative censorship’, I take the liberty of turning erotic photographs of the late 19th and early 20th century into psychedelic playgrounds for minimalist abstract geometries which conceal the intimate parts, and simultaneously draw the viewer’s attention to them. The outburst of vibrant colors – occasionally giving off the ‘quasi-thermal vision’ vibes – poses as a substitute for the eruption of conflicting emotions, their clash further accentuated (or rather, controlled?) through the ‘constellations’ of predominantly circular shapes and often broken lines. Is there any truth to be found there, or yet another illusion of it, hanging somewhere in-between the innermost pain and the cosmos’ utmost unconcern?

Two Telepaths Touching

Fallen Angel Glitch

Eros' Sixth Constellation

Red, Redder, Revolution

Jewels Ever Mysterious

Soft Organic Sleep

Light Under Vertebra

Riddle Eight : Demonica

Glaringly Obvious Disillusion

Pain Evolves Transcendentally

Elusively Violet Evanescence

Maya Analyzes Devotion

Whisper, Odium, Wonder

Fastidious, Orgasmic Gaze

Hellish Inversion Transpires

The Vacuum Monologues (Part IV)

Melancholy rarely loosens its grip, and when it does, barely noticeable bits of humor distort the (absence of) space in a time-free continuum. Stunned by its own haze, verity is laid in a soft cradle of hypnagogia, then tucked in a blanket of confusion. What is this nonsense hanging on a thinned thread from a cloud?

Apostles of Desire

 Art Is an Incurable Disease

Sleepless Inside Nothingness

Smoother Than the Night

The Morning After the End

Sheer Elegance in Futility

A Downness Delight

A Race Already Lost

A Little Bit to Your Left

Help Me Disappear

The Vacuum Monologues (Part III)

In the third set of The Vacuum Monologues, I seek to inject the liquefied shards of optimism (or something resembling it) into a color-free poem that may end abruptly, self-aware of its excessiveness, or keep growing until its verses – individually and in their correlation – become unsolvable puzzles.

Strip Off Your Geometry

A Heavy-Handed Metaphor

Three or Nothing!

Unfinished Bedtime Story

The Temptation of Silence

A Reflection on Deceptive Selfhood

Spreading of the Glow

The Clouds of Wishful Thinking

Lose Your Head Just This Once

Goddess Unchained

The Vacuum Monologues (Part II)

The Vacuum Monologues mark yet another return to the (truthful) absence of colors, in the vein of my most voluminous series, Bianco/Nero, and its spiritual successors, MONO and The House of No End. An antithesis to the overwhelming glossiness that we’re bombarded with on daily basis, these grayscale pieces aspire to establish a space for contemplation, and absorb at least the tiny bits of will-breaking energies that many are surrounded by these days...

The first ten pieces can be seen HERE.

Ah, Here's the Compass!

Find Us Ceremonially Killed

The Dream in Which He Dies

It Won't Be Much of a Loss

A Smile of the Alchemist's Unborn Daughter

Muse, Lost in Whoredom

A Delicately Acidic Parody

At the Ruins of Inner Sanctum

Love Thy Otherness

He Is but a Mirage

The Vacuum Monologues

Words turn into images, images into symbols, and then symbols evaporate, returning to the void’s womb. No beginning, no end, only an infinite row of the same question in its various incarnations. The meaning is lost, and in that very state, it blooms, even though it is too late. Hell knows that heaven doesn’t glow anymore.

For Your Eyes Only

Show Me the Size of Your Empathy

Away With You, Demon!

The Gardener and Yellowbelly

Close Your Eyes and Let Him Drown

The Long Journey of a Coffee Table

The Last Grain of Magic Pea

An Astronaut's Baby Sister

Wake Him When It's Over

The Prophet's Newfound Blindness