"A limit, a wound, a passage—
not an end, but time collapsing inward,
folding into itself, a breath suspended between worlds.
Blood seeps into the earth, fluid and silent,
flowing through the fractures of what was,
binding past and future in invisible threads.
A ritual once performed, passed down, yet always unfolding,
woven into the fabric of impermanence.
Not lost, not absent, but a creative instant,
its trace enduring.
Here, in the liminal space, death is not an end.
It is contraction, the seed of return,
a pulse between two essences, unseen yet certain.
The earth shifts, the moment bends,
and what was lost is already reborn."
Kòmaros originates from an encounter with the geological and symbolic landscape of the Parco del Conero, where a visible boundary marks the transition between the Cretaceous and the Tertiary eras.
This threshold — known as the K–T limit — is not only a stratigraphic division, but a point of rupture in the history of life: a moment where extinction and emergence coincide, where time folds and begins again.
The works are constructed using limestone from both eras, brought into contact on the same surface.
Their meeting generates a line — a fragile, unstable boundary — where separation becomes relation. This line is not drawn, but enacted: a space of tension where matter carries within itself different temporalities, compressed into a single gesture.
At its center, a darker earth — collected from a site marked by ancient incisions on the mountain — interrupts and expands the boundary.
These engravings, carved into stone and shaped by time, suggest a system of cavities and channels, where surfaces once held and directed the flow of liquids. Their form evokes a spatial logic of gathering and release, where what is separated converges, and what is given returns to the ground.
This gesture informs the structure of the works. Stones placed upon the surface act as temporary bodies, occupying the threshold before being removed, leaving behind voids — traces of a presence that no longer exists, yet continues to shape the image.
The canvas becomes a site of deposition, but also of transformation: not a representation of an event, but its residue.
Across the series, the body dissolves into time.
What appears as matter — earth, stone, pigment — is in fact a condensation of duration. The division between before and after collapses into a contracted instant, where rupture is not an end, but a generative condition.
The works thus operate as liminal spaces.
They hold together absence and presence, surface and depth, erosion and formation. Like the geological boundary they emerge from, they do not describe a transition — they embody it.
Kòmaros unfolds as a ritual without a fixed origin or conclusion.
An impermanent act, whose traces persist.
A cycle in which what is lost returns in another form, and where every mark is both an ending and a beginning.
