Constellation Of Tatyana
The more visionarily a conviction is expressed, the greater the effort to distinguish reality from a parallel universe becomes.
I had to look carefully in the direction of a belief expressed in aesthetic language, about the plurality of worlds merged into a parallel, poetic universe to the extent that it reflects the figure of a creative and visionary spirit. Thus, I found the power to wander like a falling star in the sleep of a pure thought, wrought around secular laws, just to understand what the price of an infinitely dimensional version of the inversion of the poles theorem of a mysterious writing, over time gathered on the basis of a close union with the great Everything.
As the planets possess a perfect philosophy of the whole of which we, willingly or not, are also part of, so to did my advancement into a dream without boundaries possessed the eternity of the matter in a single moment called "the resurrection of lyricism".
It was like a kind of promise made to the boundlessness beyond the boundaries of this world, the artistic original being fulfilled from the point of insistence of a reason that departed from the senses of the moment to become a total and mysterious adventure in a fantastic dimension. I did not suspect that this stranger of hypothetical, charming and unnatural surrealism, clouded like a twilight under the sky, discolored by the reflex of the Aurora Borealis, generating a deeper anxiety than the kingdom of death, would be a painting lesson in the colors of a unique story.
A visionary does not look at the world as it is, but reconfigures it through revelation, transforming the tension between dream and reality into an image of inner perfection.
For the first time, my eyes met the look of an organized chaos, drawn like a painting by Lynette Cook, amazed by the gray-ash-black triad, the colors of the occult and the twisted, dominating me through the impure interference with the white of a single borderless page. For a few astral seconds I felt framed within the description with which Victor Hugo characterized his character at one point:
"Jean Valjean stumbled into the depths of his being. He did not see anything, he did not know anything, and yet he stubbornly studied the darkness that had shrouded him without his will, as though he felt that on one hand, something new and better was being born within him, and on the other hand, everything was collapsing."
Art learning is part of a metaphorical game of the enciphering and deciphering of the soul from man to world through its chromatic and compositional appearance, and can be presented in an admirable game of perspectives, from near to distant from terrestrial to cosmic. Its knowledge is a complex process of consciousness that causes emotions, impressions, feelings and ideas in the perceptions, representations, interpretations and creation practices.
Does the essence of your work come from the association a reality obscured by its reflection in an art form that ends up plunging into an ecstasy of spiritual depths?
When the surrounding landscape is revealing itself to you as being dark and gray, although the windows of consciousness shine with color and light, when "Saturn’s Heavens" created from the light of the first intelligence meets the future symbolized by a sad mask and a cheerful one, do you understand that the origin of this great Everything is also the history of a wandering life in a labyrinth that leads to non-existence.
The universe is a colorful story depicted on the thread of a wandering life, where the soul between nothing and a simple atom tries to endure endlessness, as in a colorful globe stunningly different from the gloomy landscape that surrounds it.
Because I had engaged myself in determining a divine law for the average duration of a dream, with my eyes open, in an imaginary symbolized by the white and black colors of a restrictive space, where the escape became a form of mysticism, I did not notice how much I had strayed away from myself, from happiness, to taste a small part of the life of a solar system in which all seven of its planets were similar to Earth.
Actually, I was looking for a true epic of the human spirit engaged in the assault of the enigmas of the universe, a scientific value of uniqueness assumed by the dynamism of the stimulated expression of the color called "Glow in the dark".
Are you able to frame your consciousness in a painting with fixed boundaries, the content of which is resized by the way you express your obsession with areas less or not at all traveled?
The essence of my work fed more from an occult reality, that is, hard to imagine, perhaps only intuited, being able to make time to move in the direction of the deepest experiences that I can reveal to myself “As in heaven, so on earth”, In terms of the ratio of belonging to a distinct space-artistic environment. These experiences piercing through thoughts tended towards a spiritual renewal of the world, to a retrieval of the essences of the human being threatened with degradation.
A journey into the heart of a fantastic and silent world, amid a dialogue with seemingly impossible things, a single feeling frozen in immortality made me become the main character of a monograph dedicated to the peculiar kingdom of God. The existential level difference at the level of dimensional parallelism was left only to the perspective of reading an infinity of possible previous readings identified by a subjective creative approach.
May I be forgiven for the mistake of daring to make such a comparison, but the subject of a surreal painting was at hand, framed between miracle and mirage. A magical power blinded my eyes, if I could not see what a wonderful face, what bright eyes, and what frightening body could color a particular portion of a precisely delimited celestial sphere, The Constellation of Tatyana.
Almost certainly, I was able to frame my consciousness within the fixed limits of a painting that could resize its contents through a fine change of intensity with which I expressed my obsession for ares more or less travelled, where man still hopes, for millennia, to find out if someone, up there, exists as a physical entity, and not just as a spiritual one.
My only God is the alchemical language of the universe, the living flesh of a thought that strives to reveal everything a priori.
Is the dimension of your reality constituted by a series of events that become moments of re-evaluation for a creativity decipherable through the destiny and work of a superior mind?
The cause of a poetic imagination, metaphorically perceived as a refuge to my universal responsibilities, focuses primarily on the living matter of a solar system that once again illuminates the transgression of boundaries between existential space and fictional space. Who knows how to turn letters into an important word to say in the resounding events, also knows how to turn a star somewhere into a boundless universe in a timeless clock.
With clear wrench the heart, my confession ends its journey here, among the atoms of a time that is required to be recovered in immortality but imperiously experienced in a mortal world. The spectrum of astral guide envelops me like a breeze coming from afar which passes through the universal consciousness and returns to a fixed point, reminded sometimes within the mysterious contents of this world under the name of Cyrano de Bergerac:
"When you talk to yourself, you can clearly see the attributes of each thing you meditate on. Appearing or disappearing, they portray it to those who look not at a string of words, but in a history of images of all of their thoughts."
The expressive force of surrealist painting lies in the artist's ability to create a parallel universe, where immortality becomes possible through spiritual belonging to a unitary Whole: the understanding of the self.
The Constellation Of Tatyana is the revelation of a divine immanence during a dream that is demanded at the artistic level, seeming so real that you often confuse yourself with a role that only the universe can give you. That of making a connection – obviously spiritual – between the ephemeral and the infinite, through the delicacy of a lyrical description.
