“Show me your original face before you were born” asks a Zen master in a koan.
A friend sent me this sentence and it has been haunting me for months, like a secret and unflinching calling.
I tried to formulate my answer with paint in a series of works titled “Anonymous Self-portraits”.
It seems like a contradiction.
But how else can I name works that attempt to depict the unknown within me?
The strangeness that sometimes lurks under my skin? That inexplicable self that makes me do unpredictable things and that led Arthur Rimbaud, for his part, to write “I am another”?
In this series of self-portraits, resemblance has been ejected as an obsolete convention.
I become an experiment in paint.
It’s all about the rapidity of the brush strokes and paint splatters.
Maybe identity is nothing more than what’s left after the storm of passion has passed? Consuming all flesh?
Identity is the storm itself.
Three of these Selfies are currently available at Eternity Gallery in Miami.