Thresholds

Abandoned bodies, distorted reflections, symbols vibrating with absence and metamorphosis. Red burns, marks, demands, while water swallows and light dissolves. Nothing is buried; everything returns.

•         The Entrance. A motionless hand, perhaps a seal, perhaps an invitation. The gaze is called to cross a threshold, to enter a universe suspended between symbol and vision.
•         The Reflection. Water as a mirror, as a threshold between worlds. It is the point of no return, the fusion of inside and outside, as space turns liquid, precarious, unstable.
•         The Last Breath. The flower submerged in water, fragile, evanescent. Time wraps around it, dissolves it, as its reflection fades into the movement of the waves.
•         The Abandoned Body. Nature invades the scene like an omen, a whisper that envelops those who fall, those who fade, those who vanish without clamor. The body becomes earth, seed, beginning.
•         The Omen. Red is violent, absolute, unspeakable. It is the shadow that waits, the time that devours.
•         The Submerged Innocence. A doll surrounded by fish, red as blood and sin. The sea swallows childhood dreams, leaving behind distorted visions.
•         The Metamorphosis. Light envelops the butterfly in a glow that seems to consume it.
•         The Threshold. An optical illusion marking the boundary between what was and what could be. A moment where everything is suspended.
•         The Sacrifice. An ancient bas-relief, the lamb consecrated to the rite. The symbol of a fate foretold, the weight of tradition etched into stone and flesh.
•         The Violated Memory. The past still bleeds, the return to history, to erased faces, to denied identities. Red is a mark, an imprint of pain, of erasure. The past is never buried; it watches us, calls us, demands to be seen.