Twisted

Red china ink (pen nib) on white cementite, canvas. There is no way out from this painting. It’s a story, written in a labyrinthine way. It’s no happy ending story, it talks of a mutilated existence. It’s a secret, the deep root of art. Zalmoxis’s own cavern. The story depicts a face, but it’s a no-man’s face. Not inhuman, not scary. Just a mask that hides. To Yukio Mishima.