Artworks

The Serpent Angel soared fromt the abyss, it brought with himself the halo of something sacred and horrifying at the same. After having painted it, I had to dig into

Somehow I fell in love with armored trains. Those powerful dominators of flat lands where roads melted in mud. Majestic and vulnerable at the same time. Monuments to steel, to

Als ein Kind ein Kind war , the obsessive repetition of Peter Handke’s “Das Lied von Kindsein” opens the movie “Wings of Desire” by Wim Wenders. As a fallen angel,

The Baltic Sea is a legend. From the birthplace of my german side-kin, to Josif Alexandrovič Brodskij’s line: its “aluminum waves, where the eyes meet no borders and the ears

While hiking in the woods, I suddenly faced a deer. Its abrupt epiphany and sudden disappearance let me think of the legend of Saint Hubertus. So, if transformation can take

In R.L. Stevenson’s Treasury Island, the pirate Captain J. Flint ended his life in Savannah (GA). Savannah, stylish and magic voodoo town, its mysterious ways and lightful nights. I simply

Some people have faces not of their own, some people wear them so well. Some people can afford to create a legend upon their own faces. This is inspired by

I often fall in love with a meanigful face, for burnig eyes. When this happens, I physically need to paint a portrait as a hommage and then… everything turns out

A one night standing, years ago, then a dream. James Ellroy’s (best) novel lent me the name for it. Los Angeles, mid ’50s. A club. Citylights and the streets, she

He was courageous, elegant and rich. Honor was his code. Charismatic enough to lead the wild cossack sotnias. Too late at the head of the White Army, he forbid his

All of us have passed through those lonely, rainy nights, when midnight’s over, friend and love long gone. Too much smoke, too much booze, maybe more stuff loading us. The

Yggrdrasill, the Horse of Yggr – the sacred Ashtree. Wotan suspended himself to one of its branches, pulled out his own eye, went through death, three wolves owling at his

This one too is about magic. A maze of words, almost spells. Magic movements across a wood of birches at night. The deadly dance of the Borzoi – the fast

Another spell, another master of words: Mikhail Bulgakov. One of the devils who landed in Moscow to shake of atheism from Stalin’s era society, and the fly away when duty’s

Lou Reed once again. Street Hassle, his poisonous album widely inspired by his transgender muse Rachel Humphreys. Lyrics: pure Delmore Schwartz – style. Theme: the underworld of transvestites and junkies,

A Magician myself, sometyimes I can see the future of others’, never mine. And I really enjoy tarot divination when performed by friends always on the move, dedicated to individual

Allies to Zalmoxis, shamans unveil themselves as prophets, healers, primitive priests of the God of prophecy – call it Hyperborean Apollo: Swans lead him hrough the skies, he himself disguised

…the shaman turns into a bird, he flies away into the dark sky, next to the stars. Not of this world, beyond his own death (the Spiral – Labyrinth).

She is pure Yoruba charm, the Mermaid, the Moon, the Mother of all Gods. Orisha and Mother of all Orishas. She appears to the poor and the needing. She sometimes

New York. A lower East Side night, pouring rain. A singing voice from a bar. Music. Smoke. Sounds. Liquors. Drugs. An eulogy for Billy Holiday. A song by Lou Reed,