Typical; Bleak

Enter The Groves, a fantastical realm of my imagination.

A city rising from a sea of sand, now abandoned in the dust.

An abstract China. I enjoyed taking advantage of creative liberty to make this piece nonsensical and complex. It took months to complete.

"Paralysis" is a visual representation of what it feels like to be insnared in an uncomfortable intimate situation with another, yet not knowing how to escape. The authentic picture has been heavily doctored via a computer image- editing program. The distortion, blur and decreased resolution highlight how reality is momentarily frozen. It also refers to the dissociation one may experience as a coping mechanism for being touched unwarranted.

Oil paintings depicting the legendary Woodstock Festival of '69

Loosely inspired by the film, "Videodrome," these two pieces are excerpts from my complete collection, "Telecommunications."

This painting embodies the suffering and experience of having a terminal diagnosis.

A subtle address of substance abuse and addiction.

A piece from my second photography collection, "In Contrast."

https://www.instagram.com/calamitheyo I gaze longingly at the splashes of light as they follow my movement in this emptied room, slithering in corners I have kept well hidden. Gazing - because I am out of this body, yet still in its possesion. Longingly - because I dare to think of the moment I shall immerse myself in it. It - the luminous body, the purified version of this impractical real-time monitorised body. This real-time breathin in and out body. This real-time aching mass of bones and flesh body. The vessel for my ambushing intrusive thoughts while thinking of purer things, such as this light. Mellow yet forceful, making its way into my insides. I open my forehead to let it wash over me. A purification of the finest ones must take place in this emptied room. I am alone, yet doubled by another me. My shadow self, tangible sometimes. My light self. Do I become more myself? I dress myself in this light. The mirror encaptures a reflection of myself in light enlight enlightened energised enlarged larger and larger. I fill the room with me myself material immaterial and seep deep through the concrete. I love my home. I leave my home. I flow through the wind. I spread my fingers wings to other corners. To live a little life in every big capital of the world. Forever fascinated by other cultures. Forever envious of strangers walking the same roads every day without being immersed easily in the beauty around them. Without taking a moment to just breathe in? Am I also doing that? Rushing no stopping on the way to appreciate the small little things? Hypocrite. Breathing in the pollution and the viruses? Admiring ruins broken by vegetation? Or maybe the perfectly symmetrical glass skyscrapers? The urban dream as a labyrinthic jungle, aggresivly neon-lit and never silenced, not even when everyone is as sleep? This city never sleeps, you say. This is why I do this experiment. Becoming a light bulb big enough to be seen from anywhere, any distance, any borders.

Carved in stones, a lone tear escaped. Powerless pleas ploughed deep within the cave. Meaningless strolls crowd the streets, all but one without a shade. Always deserted. A dark soul, who could it be? Pleading the innocence, why didn’t it weep? Parting in silence, when was farewell bid? Was it, perhaps, in the blindness of the moon? Strained in struggles, man kneels to the stature of a man much more powerful. Left to demise, the stream engulfed the shore and set out to sail the life of the dead. Clueless sights paroled the scene with knowing hearts in secret. Petrified the coward roars, would the wounds heal? Paled in presence, the wild boar dies. Bared in silence a drowning river - Sanctioned to remorse, will there be rain? Leaves without fragrance, crowing down the sight and into nothing Perplexed to counter the forced light A closet of demons descended Trapping the traces of the scares inflicted - Dodged in daylight, chased in darkness Condemned to be in pain, why is the soul so calm? Sorrowed fate, could it be altered? To be or not to be, why is that the question? When none are needed, how present all are.