“The tongue may hide the truth but the eyes—never!”

Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

Flamber: Love in a Snowstorm, Analogue collage, 2019

My fascination with organs has its roots in the mehanics of essentiality and its divine ethno-origins. A tender curiosity that made out of me an irrestistable scalpel lover. Could I have ever been a surgeon? Probably not. Surrealist Ethics combined with paper bio-mechanics are my Credo. “”

 A subtle prediliction for merciful darkness allows me to dream amids my papercuts and rebel against Logica Veneranda.

While writing this words, I received the news that my oldest friend’s dear creation, is having the appendix removed. Her tears reminded me the fragility and caprici of our orgOds.