I made this work in Illustrator drawing the vectors freehand. As a template I used a photograph of a holiday I took in Villa Gesell, a town on the Atlantic Coast of Buenos Aires Province.
here’s no death, it’s just a lie we believe that exists. But there’s no getting out through the flesh, ’cause the flesh is no door. We are.
The rest is nonsense.
I see in him a sad look… I made it based on a picture of my son when he was a baby (now he’s 13). Maybe it was me who put the sadness in the drawing.
t’s not a game, I think it’s the satisfaction of a need. I wouldn’t care to go on, if it wasn’t for the stupid and limited collective mind. There’s a connection that is given between people and goes beyond conventions and permissions. But it seems everyone prefers to suffer.
I made this work—as always—in Illustrator, drawing the vectors freehand over a photograph I took myself.
The Floralis Genérica is a metal sculpture placed in the United Nations Square on Avenida Figueroa Alcorta in Buenos Aires. It was made of stainless steel with an aluminum and concrete skeleton. Supposedly, the petals should open and close automatically on a certain time of the day, but the electrical system that accomplishes this marvel is broken, and no one wants to put the money needed to repair it.
he other side is this one I’m looking towards right now, the one I’m writing at, in which I little can if I don’t insert in the words something more than their meaning (a magic that makes them carry feelings+sensations); that’s why those who deactivate the brain get so much more.
I invite you to read Be Gone on my Patreon page. It is a short story about life, dreams (the ones we have when we sleep) and tough decisions.
eing with one person means facing half of the world, it is the perfect time to say something along the conversation, anything that fits in subtly and won’t make us look insane, maybe just a phrase will do.
Talent: the innate power to discover the hidden connection between two things—images, ideas, words—that no one else has ever seen before, link them, and create for the world a third, utterly unique work.
From “The War of Art” by Steven Pressfield.
here’s a ton of material to work with somewhere I reach when I’m sleeping. A free field where participants who died on this world come to life (they’re really living again) and everything is possible—as it should have always been.