The Chromatic Of Astral Composition

Show your theories of art in the visual projection of a message or idea for a long enough time in front of destiny so that they may be recorded in immortality.

It seems to me that I am living from a reflex of the extension of the context of life, in an illusion of immortality that sees itself untouched by the admiration that embraced me at the height of a state of communion with something outside of me, something immaterial that revolves around the axis of a strange but natural phenomenology.

Suddenly implacable, virtual reality is turning its back, abandoning itself in the ether, the supreme criterion of an interpretation in the mirror of revolting time, to be contemplated in a gentle and quiet wind, making me understand how long it may be that what reinforces, subliming the color of emotion, can suddenly disappear just like an anonymous artist from another era.

The instinctive factor of the unique and total sentiment that overcomes time through multiple angles in which the argument of vibrant color and unlimited matching options can be explored in the context of completing a picture of great refinement in a dementia of disillusionment called "The thirst for infinity" is a predetermined correlation between the ray of light thrown over past things and the perception of the glorification of the historical pattern of artistic currents.

My art has as a rhyme the symbol of color in the universality of a creator of great altitude, not in the way it is perceived as a visual sensation by contemporaries who access its magic, but especially in the way in which the principles and importance of using color in the generation of psychological effects and the values of luminosity reflected in an endless work called history, in the spirituality of some generations that succeeded in a continuous becoming.

The highest, subtle and most representative result of art is the struggle to reconstruct an essentially historical moment from the overwhelming image of fiction that has become reality.

Is your effort to reconstitute a certain past found in the art of setting up a fictional universe from a plan of reality where the contrast between two opposing aspects defines the extension of a new sense?

And seeing as how reality must be expressed in artistic terms, without which the most intense experiences, reduced to the state of passing dreams, can in no way translate into action, I am compelled to adopt an attitude of maximizing the gratuitousness and the contemplativeness of art, and the spirit of self-observation, which, as a rule, dominates the space of authentic creation that rules its own world.

The Three Ages of Man is one of the masterpieces of Master Tiziano Vecellio, which inspires great amazement through a vivid color code. I asked him why he preferred to render sensitivity and purity through open colors, and Tiziano, smiling for the first time in his life, replied: "Despite the cold dominance of the most pure and subtle blue-green with green reflexes, the presence of red and yellowish tones, merged in a mellow, lyrical light, creates a calm harmony of intense vitality."

I then understood that the chromatic structure of his work aimed at identifying the world built by a poet, compared to the real world. The past of an artist’s life is the prolongation of an idea into eternity. And the contrast between two opposing aspects – persistence and change – that facilitates understanding of concepts and the balance of composition, defines the extension of a new sense called: the road of destiny.

Do you try to give a conventional definition of the emotional role you play in the power of destiny for a period when the compensations of your hard work do not keep up with the expansion of small events in the great history?

Despite the limitations imposed upon me by the living art of the overwhelming present, that cannot deny the past that I still idealize as a standard of welfare and inner peace, near the edge of unanswered questions, I managed to take my creation to a level of confrontation with the destiny of long-forgotten heroes, even if their world was quickly headed to an inevitable sunset.

A strange slumber of the drawing represents me at all times, seemingly possible to associate with the journey of a l'esprit de finesse into a virtual reality, as a confrontation of fate broken from films, with the limits of an unconceivable world, losing myself in the embrace of a graphic fabric always supervised by revelations of pure, truly eternal and immutable subjectivity.

Little by little, I am wandering on the path of destiny, to the deep understanding of a whole called "fleeing to another realm" where I can heal the wounds of my soul received from the battles I passed through without, a safe diagnosis, without supervision, without treatment, in the thematic universe of Finnish literature, in which Mika Waltari would have a hard word to say: "My destiny still has many lives to bear before sharing the divine food with the gods."

I would like to tell you more about the Lade Naval Battle, because I cannot even figure out how I have escaped alive from the indescribable chaos from which detached the desperate screams of those who died. Few still remember her history. When Dionysius’ skill turned into an impossible victory, just as my passage through the loop of time, he exclaimed with an indescribable joy: "If I had a hundred ships like this, and if they were only manned by men of Phocaea, I could conquer all the seas of the world."

The happiness of a commander, like that of painters, comes from a fine perception of ridiculous that the end always has a new beginning.

I would have liked to recreate the whole course of the battle in only one color, but my time, in the name of I don’t know what art principle that eludes my grasp. I signify that I still live in illo tempore, in the illusion of the eternal return to what was at the beginning, in connection with the resumption of the world as a restart of Creation.

The Chromatic Of Astral Composition suggested by me through the raw greens of nature, in contrast to the red brick of the ruins and the inimitable blue that turns to gray, that has the gift of giving the warriors a ghostly air, captures the sense of a world that successively changes its décor, each time according to the style and approach of an artist who puts himself at the service of the art subtly called: rebirth in immortality.