Full Moon Party, 2025

Clear Shadows  

It produces nothing, it reflects. It dazzles. It attracts. Like a screen we stare at without thinking. Light passes through the perforations in the paper, acting as a developer. The drawing isn't laid on top, but carved into it, emptied, revealed by what disappears. The celestial body exists through absences. We only see one face; the other remains hidden. As in reality, the hidden face is only unveiled with technology, belatedly, thanks to instruments and science.

The celestial body acts upon bodies. From a distance, it shifts the tides, governs cycles, disturbs the nights, nourishes legends, and brings about metamorphosis. It is a discreet but constant force, whose influence traverses space.

The gesture is repeated, piercing after piercing, until it becomes automatic. Breathing is mechanical. The impacts accumulate, organize themselves, become blurred. They form craters, sharp or diffuse. From afar, the surface appears smooth. Up close, it becomes a record of shocks, a map of scars. Marked skin. The surface is landscape, marked epidermis, sensitive matter, traces, imprints, shadows. Each hole is a tiny displacement, a pressure, a silent impact.

A distant presence that shapes in silence. A constant, reflective, passive attraction. A light that we look at for too long without realizing it.