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140 cm x 90 cm

Availability: In stock

Medium: Acrylic Diptych on Canvas (two-canvas painting).



Location: Beirut.

Ships: Stretched on Canvas and framed.


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"My artwork is the first of many screenings of my relentless philosophical journey into the process of human mental evolution, through eroticism. Desire, in all its rarity and glory, marks my long interest in art and culture. I stand for love and lust. Call me a hedonist; I am certainly persuaded by sentiment. My paintings reveal my sensuality and power of imagination, and my approach to eroticism oscillates between admiration, intimacy, sensuality, pleasure but also spirituality and abstraction. Sticking to painting for the moment, I want to expand my celebration of desire through a wider range of artistic expression: etching, sculpture and… literature. My paintings challenge any single discourse on the erotic. In the eighteenth century, Eroticism was defined as “ the intrusion into the public sphere of something that was at base private”, and this is how I want my art to be portrayed. While suggesting moral nihilism, I like to think I am taking people on a journey; I am not just entertaining them, but giving them something to think about when they leave. More so, encouraging the audience to make their own decisions about what exactly is “acceptable”. A lot of them might be fitting but not proper. Do you even know the difference between fitting and proper? Or more so, my question is and remains; when have two lovers ever worried about manners? I sketch everything before turning them into paintings. Having no model or particular muse in mind, I believe that my paintings emerge out of my infatuation with the female form and rather focus on the intimate and sensual atmosphere surrounding me. Anytime I am lost or uninspired, I turn to Egon Schile’s clarity in his humanness, admire the ancient Japanese art of shunga or even get aroused by Matisses’ colors. In a suggestive way, I have so much to say- with and without words- and that’s why I resort to painting. In Oscar Wilde’s words “I live the poetry I cannot write.”