Lukas Vargas

01/31/2022

Salome’s head is dancing on the bright
And silver ice. Oh holy John, how still
Was laid thy head upon the salver white, When thou hadst done God’s will!

"A Dance of Death" by Michael Field

11/17/2020

Throughout our history, pandemics have risen from the depths of our nature to remind us of the fragility of the principle of human superiority on which we have built our civilizations.

11/10/2020

λοιμός by Lukas Vargas

10/30/2020

09/15/2020

Session two by Lukas Vargas

09/07/2020

New York Session One by Lukas Vargas

08/31/2020

Session One by Lukas Vargas

08/23/2020

SERES BY Lukas Vargas

In my restless dreams I see those skins.

Pushing the boundaries of color and shape.

They were beings born of lust between light and darkness.

They set their eyes at me with an anhedonic indifference.

Meanwhile their movements were adapting estrange forms and colors.

Being impossible to distinguish between races, genders, ethnicities or ages.

The abstractions of textures is the mirror of the eyes.

Where we could be an element, animal o things.

An I Ask why our nature is re-composed under the sea?

We are the sons of the water.

Whispers from the sea become humans.

We are the tears of the waterfall.