Portrait Art #1
Each stratum of our society has been turning the endless screw of humanity for centuries and even millennia. But the helical grooves that compose it are getting closer as the demographic expansion accelerates, hovering above our heads the specter of dark days.
Travel in our cerebral convolutions through the versatility of our thoughts, in perpetual motion of these tensions born in childhood of scoubidous and Brazilian bracelets and all these little rainbow threads that pull us one by one to better twist our spirit which will only find peace at the dawn of eternal night.
We climb the stairs of our skinny ambitions in columns of gold coins that we stubbornly hoard in the unreasonable belief that they will be enough to offer us the sybilline highly coveted fate but devoid of all common sense that can elevate our souls. We believe we are going up, but we are actually going down, into the depths of the loss of meaning.
Let yourself be seduced by this moving and elusive tapestry, drown yourself in this unintelligible and insidious iridescence. From the first peregrinations of your eyes, it is already too late. The matrix has infiltrated through your optic nerve to the occipital lobe and, inextricably, has taken complete control of your brain.
Sitting comfortably in the felt of our modern ease where the weft and the warp that contemporary society has woven under our feet must guarantee us a daily tranquility to the point of atharaxia, we play, we bet, we juggle with our joys, our fears, our emotions and our false pains in the casino of our lives in search of the great lost thrill.
A slow symphony of shapes and colors for a meditative introspection through the organic matter that composes us, on a cellular and microscopic scale, like the flexuous effluvium of life that carry us on an unspeakable drive.