My practice is a Carnal Technology of Exposure. It does not aim to reflect reality but to alter it: to strip it bare, twist it, turn it into an act. I paint, perform, write, and assemble because no single medium is enough. I am not a painter, a novelist, or an academic: I use painting, writing, and theory as raw materials in the same workshop. Each work is a device that exposes—confronts, wounds, seduces—and opens cracks through which another life might begin.
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This technology unfolds in multiple forms. It becomes Carnal Abstraction when geometry begins to sweat, color vibrates like flesh, and sex turns into form. It becomes Sociopoetics when friendship and conflict, law and public space are sculpted as living matter: a parking lot turns into a parliament, a bathroom into multiplicity. It emerges as Histopoetics when diverted archives and phantom avant-gardes erupt into the present, making operative the gestures history left unfinished. It reveals itself as PoliErotics when power strips down into desire and reactionary rhetoric—handwritten in lipstick—appears as a camp spectacle, seductive and dangerous. And it takes shape as Mythobiographies when I invent lives and inhabit them—the stripper, the gallerist, Andrea Goncharova, the chaste one—so that diaries, objects, paintings, videos, and books emerge from those immersions.
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I have turned sweat into relics, hacked canonical languages with anime and choripán, asked others to draw what culture erased, transformed slogans into murals and anonymous hate into chorus. I am an artisan of concepts: I work with ideas as if they were matter, bending, mixing, staging them until they become acts.
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I am not interested in a single narrative but in a constellation: carnal abstractions, architectures of resistance, poetics of the archive, erotics of power, and mythical biographies. That is where the work insists: it does not explain—it acts. It does not decorate—it wounds. It does not affirm—it deviates.
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This is my method.
This is my promise.