Pictures deteriorated by corrosions that reshape figures. A continuous metamorphosis. A corrosive magma, which excludes some elements, questions the order of objects within the image, acting slowly over time. Chemical reactions in dialogue with the ambiguities of the past.
The (missed) story of two of us, of two among us, a collective, and connective story. A family saga fruit of happy decomposition, fruit of obsessive composing/decomposing/recomposing.
Being again at the centre of the universe is possible. The luxury of losing your head, of losing your identity by corrosion, gives you back a future, and it brings you back to an everbearing state, where you can be everything and nothing, a generative dimension where you can invent again through the enigmas of memory, the lacks, and the holes.
Is the struggle between what is happening and what happened an irreversible path? If anything at all remains, perhaps it is precisely and only what does not return.