Scream under the sea

A good story is wonderful if it has as the setting the sea, the colors and a couple of bodies together. A stone uvula inside the deep blue announces a silent cry that rescues souls. This painting represents a pair of colossi in an unreserved embrace. Made of mother-of-pearl and emerald. The reef bodies, one now, supports eroticism within a texture of desire and satisfaction, in a plastic metaphysics. One goosebump are joint against the mazes of leather. The skin vibrates, and the main surface emboss over the light while a brain is revealing; even the hair germinates with glances. At last, two blows of green lips, long-sought signs of desire, are spreading as a simultaneous and expressive exhalation, as a brushless abstraction of pale diffusions, painting without hands. In this picture, the feelings are reclaiming. They are dying aloud under the blues, among silk fountains and double bass moans. What melts the arms?

Among boreal novels diving, swimming into psychedelic steam. The glory of the defeated is a happy rest after the fight and the sacrifices. That’s right, the success of nature is in reward life. Thus, we understand how the preamble to biological reproduction is a sublime ritual in any of its forms. Species transcend through the miracle of sex. They manifest their process when we contemplate its almost erotic, unique, and dimorphic ceremonies. The same magic of polyps has a replica in hominids. Animals may not smile, but everyone seems to make love.

  The world is really stinging without eroticism. No matter how colorful the relationship appears without the metaphor of the encounter, the cycles aren’t splendid and eroticism doesn’t lead to the organic climax that the huge fusion of species involves. Is there love in the marine world? The same question can be: Does all of nature make sense without feeling? Is there pleasure in self-awareness? Why do we need another to be complete? The answer to those questions impose the metaphors of the encounter on us. Also, release reflections on the theses of hedonism and the current culture of the link.

The image present here invites you to meditate on the practice of the bond, how is so easy to lose today. That youthful bond of taming each other. Guaranty of intimacy where we learned to communicate through the mischievous smile. Now, in this young era, it becomes elusive. That affective mannerism of the end-of-the-century is decadent, euphoric narcissism prevails in post-modernity. It seems like an eros without commitment, vulgar, exposed, is healthier and more precious even if it presupposes infidelity. Without sentimental contracts, life projects are more practical. The behavioral trend of disengagement evidences a contemporary environment of liquid truths. Particularly in personal relationships, detachment promotes a watery and fluid reality that erodes the beings more quickly. We broadcast proclamations with labels of freedom and multiple experiences through the non-link and the open link status.

This scream under the sea. This surreal work, this underwater and anthropomorphic landscape invites us to think about those eternal topics: the sexual economy of anguish, the repression of desire, the bioelectric function of intercourse or the instinct of wanting to balance biopsychic energy. These ejaculative songs lead us to think about how to exorcise the demons of hysteria through a transcendent delivery. If anything, we can prevent social neurosis under the formula of tension, charge, discharge and relaxation of psychological energy.

When we look at this picture, we can wonder about the elevation of the tantric subconscious, or a leisure act to feed the youthful ego. If it is possible to confront the ebb of our time, or we can barely wash sin with the commitment of love. Perhaps it is only true, what for many supposes a banal cure; intimate is another cardiovascular exercise to burn calories and tone the anatomy. For nature, the sexual connection means an essential incentive for reproduction. Evolutions facts, simply genetic games. Just the grand pre-birth marathon. Whims or algorithms from the mighty god of bless.