My new international solo exhibition, "Spring Sangria Somnambulic Sirens" is out!
https://www.artsteps.com/view/64864face1b1649a29dabf59
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Spring Sangria Somnambulic Sirens
This is the temple of my morbid and spookish drawings and illustrations, named after my drawing, visual artwork and motifs from my poems. It reveals an obscure dance of sexuality and death, of viscose narrative about Femme Fatale creatures and Lolita nymphets. They are caught in nightmarish, lovecraftian and hentai scenarios, weaving a dark, macabre, surreal fairytales of sexual pleasure spiked with pain, BDSM seances and possessions by diabolic creatures, ghosts, monsters and predators. Oftentimes those fiends represent shadow selves of the heroines, and all is bathed in polarity of innocence and cruelty, fragility and sadism. Resembling film noir ondines, they dance in another astral planes, speak in tongues like transfixed and hypnotized, and bewitch the spirits into their spider net. Fishtail of the ingenue turns to vagina dentata of intense, deliric, voracious mafiosa bride. The images are immersed in a spiky, thorny soulscape, with ocean trying to invade the futuristic castle, and perform as a cocktail of paradise and inferno, boiling of monstruous libido and mournful screeching of venomous desolation, merging all four elements of nature that collide with neon of my personal Alcatraz and dragon talons of Dark Night of the Soul. I could say that my alters are torn apart between wildfire of salacious paganism and Pacific depths of melancholy mysticism.
Simpler manual works are a selection of my drawings, from college years till today (1997 -). Heroines in my work are punk and gothic riot girls, vulgar, vulnerable, disclosed, dreamy, seductive, hallucinant and dangerous. They are simultaneously angelic and demonic, representing witches, vamps, tramps, bestial harlots and ethereal virgins, angry and moody bitches and elusive magicians. I believe that identity is complex collection of multitudes, like shattered glass of a haunted mirror, glued again with pure gold. I squeeze blood from my wounds to build christal piramid shrine. Digital, more intricate illustrations show ecstatic, fervent and diabolic encounter of gorgeous vamps and dominatrix women with demons, celebrating the depths of the perverse and deviant sexual pleasure. They are in eternal escape of their claustrophobic status of lonely queens. I also add an element of violence and sadism, in one way consensual, which belongs to kinky sexual practices that bring to life the most intimate and hottest sexual fantasies, and in the other, toxic and painful one, that discloses hellish stories about codependency, obsession, torture and addiction, trying to heal it. In polymorphic perversity and free, viperous and wicked female sexuality I see a revolutionary potential, following the footsteps of Wilhelm Reich, with the spicy entanglements of Marquis de Sade and Sacher-Masoch and the tripoid visions of Georges Bataille, but tainted with my own distorted visions and chimeras.
My uncut poetic musings that triggered this exhibition: „Voices of Lamias in my head peaking violently dizzy heights, vultures pecking my virgin flesh, ultramarine corpse, cerulean breaths, sapphire blood: kitchen knife blade etching fatal canyons in my delicate porcelain skin, I rise from the stormy oceans, hissing bijou byzantine icons turned upside down, you push me down in the bushes and we dance as lonely satans, angelic strippers of tinsel nectarine, wiggling in nembutal haze, my stilettos poking your heavenly eyes, in mefisto dance of amethyst siren flashing syrup of your intestinal archipelago, entrancing you, betraying you, bewitching your ouija, oh, sefirot of misfits – their slit wrists and dirty punk faces pressed against tempestuous silverscreens of howling, horny desire. Zephyr is wild, anacondas copulate in feverish hemorrage of deep lunar cuts, Lorelei bedevils doped up sailors in her troublesome loins of vicious orchids. Their leechy labia flicker like pyromaniacs in ecstasy of crimson crime, sanguine mermaids suck your ardorous itch of salacious maniac, nympho lymphosis bites off your listless dewy limbs like a cannibal, she screeches jelly blood, puking and vomiting fountains of bloody tentacles, clairvoyant antennas of violated violator, and your (…) head is rolling down the Neptune Avenue like fetal snowflake, tumor of love, desolate heresy of everything I ever believed in, blinding sun of nuclear noon – I killed it with my crucifix moon, in obscene gemstone erotica, I devour your cellophane heart, that useless piece of pulsating meat, I surf on the swelling waves of your wretched tar despair, when your scandalous wildcat hands, criminal and polluted like hell´s blaze grave, reach for my pure, bright face, lucid as a lighthouse upon pitch-black blizzard cape. – (…) Virulent vertigo of royal blood soaking bikini pole dancers with electric eyes shooting lasers of glitter sorcery, inflamed glamour of (…) stalactites and catacombs, monstruous crimson of their vulgar stigmata, sultry slots of their Medusa gowns, oh, how those mesmeric ingenues charge their flesh and guts and exquisite hearts, blinded by fluorescent light. - Monarchs crowning my moonstone hair, harbour whores with red holes in their Rio de Janeiro palms, I´m entangled in thick morose dream, porose bones scream, their horrific pallid chalkiness crumbles in stardust powder, in fire of pregnant moon amnesiacs, lingering glissando over death canyon.“
And a few random, accidental ones from 2011. and 2012.
