Beauty is always wild, untamed; a Dionysian frenzy pursued in form, a pure gift of exuberance, a rarity not a commodity…
Spiritual singularities that break the matter of the linear world are the eternal hypocrisies of all times…
Amongst the tones of flesh and curves that one chooses, it’s important to remember that they are signs of ones own transcendental instinct, that such "attunements" have to be trained towards an intense "microscopic messianisms": to pierce the modern life-chains, and reveal all around us the infinity of nuances and gains of imaginative graces…
You can buy women’s finite bodies and simulations but you can’t buy their infinite ecstasies. Whether poor or rich, one is either lacking in matter or completely imprisoned by matter. One hopes for more. Isn’t this why we say, spirit, love or Eros rule the world, yet, simultaneously hypocritically, we always fail to hear those calls, the calls of the sirens…
Chaosmos - Life is all about floating selections in a sea of inconsequentials; yet, this savage intensive sea, this web related background of undifferentiated heterogeneity, is the necessary backdrop, for the extremes of the peaks and the singularities of selection to emerge…out of the mass of undifferentiated relations…
Art is what life is all about…
A summer night falls on our cities and ourselves, in the gentle breeze of the shimmering lights they lusted in their sweaty golden reflected light, two oily undulating reptiles from another Eden…
Rituals of pain and pleasure took place in dark rooms of velvet hues, ivory breasts were plunged into pressing hands. Lips of luscious red kissed over legs of divine proportion tied in black streams of silk…finalizing an invisible contract with an ebony angel…
Her body reflected the dark underside of a strange spirituality…
She stopped dancing as if exhausted, moved nearby to those eyes that she could not help enticing, or even resist...if only she could yield a bit more, without fear…
Lust of love - They began walking through the dancing crowd into the dark streets outside, through the electronic sounds of the beating hearts he followed her, with the white light moon above and the city’s amber fire ahead, in tune with the hollow rhythms of her high-heels clicking on the pavement. Arriving at the outskirts of the city, amongst the broken down factories and empty iron barracks casting heavy shadows he turned to her as she pouted out her luscious lips...they both embraced under twisted steel, bathing in the sun of an oblique moon...and he languidly whispered “I lust you…I want to fuck you…“
What is the sea? a chaos of translucent droplets within drops…
