The sequence presented here is an extract from my book Camera Apocrifa, elaborated during the past year. Mixing sculpture, photography and everyday space, I use the room to perform a play of which I alone am the spectator. Absorbed, I use myself as a tool to consume and fix the vestige of a lost desire.
Camera Apocrifa is the protected and constrained space in which a compulsive redefinition of the self takes place. An intimate search where obsession turns into anamorphosis and solitude. In the attempt to be accepted by the other, my image twists and deforms to take on any form. Lost, without a sincere figure, my search of desire leads me to its inevitable degradation.
This feeling of ephemerality, this unceasingly moving form, in agony, only makes it more urgent to fix these fantasies in matter and image, as a profane attempt at absolution, an ex-voto, as a memento to others and to myself.
The whole thing becomes tense in a dynamic of attraction-repulsion, of fullness and emptiness, of pleasure and regret. Caught up in dizziness, I turn on myself while looking from up close and from far away. Alone, I perform my apocryphal rituals that take place in a room which, like photography, is the alcove, the temple and the prison of my sexuality.
If I were to see a starting point to this project, I would look at the confrontation I had with sexting and nudes, from which I developed a compulsion. The feeling of regret and impossible desire came to take over my lust, creating a void. This work stands as a proof, an apology and an acceptance of the complexity of sexuality. It is an affirmation of the fragility of men, who are constantly confronted by the oppressing phallic obligation.
