“It’s with words that a story begins and it’s with stories that we mess up the world.”
It is through this painted corpus that I wanted to set their ivory mount, silent heralds of the great squares, a platform for these unchanging faces and amplified by a factitious decorum. They are giants, born from the artist’s will to want to mix them with our world. They stand alone in the black squares of the chessboard of cities. We are in the other yard, the white squares from where will follow a disturbing duplicity of the game that will be played between us. They live in the next room. They spy through the holes of locks our gestures, our movements and our slightest palaver between confidants. They? They are the Insilences. They are the eyes that will not be silent, these crystalline temples to the countless words exchanged, lost, which over the years have reformed to become secrets. They are the ones that will make noise one day.
“From the last to the first light of day, I give you the night. Please give me the day to sleep.”