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To love someone is to put yourself in certain peril. Under its influence or may be spell, you surrender. With every moment shared you expose yourself. You open up. You remove the layers that protect what’s left of you. And they get to see who you are. To know who you are. Sometimes even better than you will ever know yourself.
Loving unbinds you, sets you free from everything you have created to protect yourself. Your love gives them the power to destroy you. So destroy it, before they can use it to destroy you.

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Within these negative spaces, silence swirls more expressively than words…
Koki Lxx pushes the limits of clay as a sheet with hollow forms that ply the precarious line between empty promises and cloaked possibilities. The ghosts of useless objects we accumulate forebode to haunt us with regret, or perhaps perceived in another paradigm, are opportunities simply waiting to be rediscovered.

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REVERSED FUTURISIM | the map precedes the territory

In Jucar Raquepo’s Reversed Futurism (Or the Map Precedes the Territory), the artist’s paintings somehow create a delectably warped vision board replete with disjointed images and skillful renderings of old street photographs, circus freakshow flyers, 50s ads and images of icons of realities spliced together. Set in collage-like arrangements, Raquepo’s fragmented renderings bring to mind Jean Baudrillard’s The Precession of Simulacra and concrete illustrations of simulation. What might be surprising at a closer look, however, is that the appearance of a collage does not, in reality, offer what we expect: we see not decoupaged layers and cutouts, but mimetic paintings straight from the artist’s brush.

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In the novel by the Czech writer Milan Kundera, lightness relates to the originality of existence. Not necessarily to originality as ingenuity, but to that ofa life unfolding only once. As an ephemeral instance that cannot recur, life is said to be characterized by lightness. We exist but briefly. And despite our best attempts at posterity, at heaviness, things turn inevitably to the opposite. One is reminded of the imagery of Shelley’s Ozymandias, the weight of stone has crumbled into sand and is swept by the winds.

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