
(コモレビ) KOMOREBI: when sunlight filters through the trees.

(コモレビ) KOMOREBI: when sunlight filters through the trees.

cosa sta succedendo?

la ballerina.

the mummification of the firmament body, evisceration of the throat absorbed by the hospital museum inside the vessels.
liver, heart and kidneys are floating in the abdominal cavity of the mammal
excreting temperament interstellar tempura, virtue, fancy emaciated anatomy of the absent face of god.

everything is a miracle.

the street of the vein.
η διαδρομή της φλέβας.
ಧಾಟಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಪಥವನ್ನು.
નસ પાથ.

un pomeriggio giallo
aleggia oggi sulle schegge.

oltre i confini.
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.”
(F. Nietzsche)

cells are swimming in the light of
cells are the core of the big being
traced diagrams allowing connection.

la tendina non finirà di stupirti.

a very vibrant yellow for your blissful joy.
(and click here for even greater gaiety)

actually you can’t even see it.

With the improvement of technology over the years, artists are more able to explore outside of the boundaries that were never able to be explored by artists in the past.

If you want to call me use this symbol.

“The sound of colors is so definite that it would be hard to find anyone who would express bright yellow with base notes, or dark lake with the treble.”
Wassily Kandinsky

Sunlight takes about 8.3 minutes to reach Earth from the surface of the Sun. A photon starting at the centre of the Sun and changing direction every time it encounters a charged particle would take between 10,000 and 170,000 years to get to the surface.

Come avrai certamente notato le Crocs sono uno dei miei temi ricorrenti.
In questa foto ho cercato di catturare la magica energia dello zoccolo.
Ogni foro è un portale verso lidi incantati.
Ogni pertugio si fa accarezzare dolcemente dai fotoni caldi del tardo pomeriggio.
Persino il pavimento sembra atterrito dall’accogliere la loro candida ombra che si staglia con inusitata poesia.

“The past, like the future, is indefinite and exists only as a spectrum of possibilities.”
Stephen Hawking

the simulacrum shows its physiognomy in the blackness.