Horizontal doors. Scape artists. Open panorama windows. Landscapes diverting into excarcerated fences. Boulders, chains, chaos parading through torture’s corridors. A broken horizon here. A luminous sunset there. A sunrise. A Trojan Horse. An old forgotten chair. A convoluted parade of disgruntled faces. Rigid gestures. Pensive statues gloomed in vein. Watching two kids play riding a wooden horse, I realized imagination is a nation full of images, a fruitful province, a scintellating city, a galloping State… a fascinating door open towards the corridor of the unknown, a slap in the face to all we consider possible, impossible, predictable, crazy, near, far.
Pastel, Charcoal & Acrylic on paper 31×20 & 42×30