Look At Me Without Forgetting My Gaze

The fundamental link between image and perception is the subjectivity with which memories take off deep within you.

My thoughts always go to the sea and to the sand of the coast, two variants of the same memory representation. This more accurately reveals the strength of an artist’s soul that through his paintings tells his universe in colors, painting the face of the sun in the way that the sea, in its melodious voice, kisses the sand and then retreats during the ebb. Surprisingly, the dry land takes the form of paths along which I fondly carry my memories, outbursts of tenderness, bouts of nostalgia fever, related to the idea of perspective space that possesses intrinsically sensitive properties.

So, there are two aspects of the same reality destined to respect and be granted only to a color surface that possesses in itself a spatial meaning, Rhyvalhystus (time of universal freezing), leading to the formation of my personality as an artist. And not some artist, but one capable of transforming memory into emotional, visual themes.
In fact, in many of my memories of the Black Sea, along which I have analyzed the small traces I have left (and which reveal, even now, other surprising truths), there is the unsurpassed sensation of the purest light and of an immense distance: the light of a personally humanized vision and the measure of the distance traveled from sight to vision.

Leadership: Can you revive a reality by bringing the past back into the present, in front of a convex mirror that reflects the ideal image of an endless life?

Yes. There is a secret hidden between me and the sea: we cannot exist without incorporating, on the contrary, the meanings of a work of art that allows itself to be discovered only according to the whims of memory doubled by an image of imaginary reality, originating from a past that stubbornly refuses to pass In one way or another, it is about the existence of a subjective time, revived by involuntary memory, and represented in a convex mirror that reflects the ideal image of an endless life.

Are they just the whims of an inventive fantasy that rummages through reality with its hands full, eclipsing any surrounding attraction? Or, maybe I am especially fond of the sea in the image of an idyllic, rare, isolated world, in which I want to lose myself without a goal, without a plan, without a trace, as in a labyrinth of convex mirrors that, deceptively, always leads in the same place.

In this way, I must model myself on the tendencies of the sea to delight the viewer’s eye, so that the essence of the dynamic of life remains intact by referring to art, or more precisely to the pictorial representation of the beauty of a dialogue between the gaze and the embrace. Looking face to face with myself, with all that it entails, and embracing a wandering illusion in which my former self would have lived.

Leadership: Can the image that broadens your horizon justify the existence of a subjective time, revived by involuntary memory and elevated to the rank of a confession that reflects emotional fragility?

Entering this space of the image that directs the gaze towards the discovery of the artistic, appreciated as the foundation of the conservation of the sea in the work of memory, I managed to integrate myself into a book written by Paul Auster, which spoke about the Russian literary critic and philosopher, Mikhail Bakhtin:

“During the German invasion of Russia in World War II, Bakhtin smoked the only copy of the manuscript of his work, a vast study of German literature (which was the size of a book and on which he had been working for years). One by one, he tore out every page of the manuscript and used the paper to roll his cigarettes, smoking a little bit of the book day after day until there was nothing left. These stories are true. They are also parables, perhaps, but they have the meaning they have because they are true.”

In my artistic work, where the images merge into an echo of dream times from a place of disconnection from stress, I have demonstrated a special inclination towards this kind of life attitude.

Especially in my memoirs, so varied and colorful, the following account can be found: all that I see with the eyes of memory is, day by day, a page torn from a life lived without regrets, remaining steadfast in front of a dream image which, mysterious and indecipherable, transformed into a poem of time, outlines a fascinating journey of self-discovery. And even if all the pages of my memoirs will be lost, one by one, thrown into an enigmatic, undeserved, endless oblivion, one thing will still remain rooted in hearts: the scent of the Sea Breeze.

Leadership: Does the impact that the image of the totality of your presents throughout your life has on you, put you in the pose of a Creator in the proximity of a vision as revealing as it is profound?

The harsh perfume of fiction is felt in the way I immortalize a sublime moment of emotion, when the water of the sea recedes into the open, leaving visible a narrow strip of land that my eyes consider the middle of eternity in a simulated virtual reality, a “no man’s land” where a large number of myths, legends and symbols meet and face each other. And, one more thing on which I agree, a universal phenomenon translated by an Achthas Syncorthesys (the symbol of the drive towards spiritualization), is that complete sincerity of the painter and the strong originality with which he captures the details, without getting lost in them.

Just like in a kind of visual labyrinth in which the character gets lost without a trace to be found, but becomes an eternal being by the fact that his memory is immortalized in a masterpiece of art that reveals itself in the strong contrast between image, reality and symbol. Therefore, art reveals its true value at the seaside, through the monologues of the artist’s mind that, haunting him for hours and hours, bring to life those overwhelming, intense emotions, and shed light on what it means to live from transposed memories in pictures.

Indeed, in memory you cannot live in total ignorance, in an essentially perfect oblivion, but only to see yourself, to discover yourself, to be amazed by the intensity of your reactions face to face with reality, without pretending to be someone else.

And the sea creates a double in a photograph: it clones me in more and more poses, the most truthful of which is that of the Creator of the Microcosm. Indeed, a single photograph can evoke an infinity of emotions in a loop of past time revived by reminiscence. Emotions poured out and stored perfectly in a time capsule, like a chest full of a hidden treasure that brightens the monotonous life…

An artist must consider the unity between the image and the medium through which the image is transmitted, for a logical reason: no image can exist without a medium of abstraction of reality, not even mental images that use the flow of memories as a medium for the development of self-awareness.

Look At Me Without Forgetting My Gaze every time you try to penetrate a reality that reflects your state of mind, tuned to a spiritual fulfillment that transcends space and time and with which you ennoble your life, called “rejuvenating recollection”.