The Color outside don't let me move

A new condition of life, stasis and movement seem to be fused together in something resembling lucid paralysis. We need to find a new meaning to reality, a symbolic way, an escape route. The world stops, atomises, disintegrates and recedes before our eyes. We must find a destination or get lost in the search. Photographs are simulacra that connect different planes of reality, like bridges or doors to worlds we no longer experience. A divinatory medium that allows access to a mediated, unconscious, authentic, subjective and objective reality at the same time. A place of tension between opposites, the energy released by the attraction between reality and awe manifested in the act. An explosion that crystallises, irradiates silver particles, illuminates microscopic photocells, and condenses into a surface. What remains is an image, a simulacrum, a totem, connecting manifest reality with possible reality. It is the glow of awareness in sleep, the spasm that breaks the chains of paralysis, the end of one world and the beginning of another.