Exhibitions

We are scattered in pure particles in moments, at that, in the past, in the future, with an unknown image. We'll see and review even the upcoming moments. Sometimes cold and silent, sometimes even-light or colourful feathers of a tropical parrot. We travel to the depths of the jungle, our savages, and our self-restraint. A reflection of me in the tones of a tree or galactic that I have never really had a journey to. We can swing in the colours, in designs, without knowing that coherence lies in nature not in line and in colour.
Is silence or joy speed or stagnation? How can I be shown momentarily?
As if we were not ours yesterday.