The butterfly gospel, 2026

Triptych mounted on wood podium, oil on canvas, wood frames.

The altarpiece “The butterfly gospel” depicts a rococo nightmare in Technicolor—an orgy in which the body speaks unfiltered and shame has long since been buried. Its conception is indebted to David Cronenberg, Minnie Ripperton and the anatomical illustrations of the Baroque era. “Perpetual Metamorphosis” (left) depicts an unwilling god, maltransformed and left to ache in the gardens of some long lost sanctuary. Its eggs are stolen away by a group of strangers; a nun, a man in a suit, a pair of flute players. Illuminated by a sickly glowing light they enter the scene like a parade of sacrilegious angels, driven by greed and lust. In “The Hospital” the egg is cracked, revealing a creature inside, its body too sick to withstand this polluted world – and as it seems, a powerful resource that will forever change the essence of humanity. The blood samples taken to map out the creature’s condition seem to have a transformative quality. Soon, from the most remote corners and hidden recesses of the city hospital, ecstatic roars and diabolical moans are heard drifting through the corridors, infecting the metallic bloodstream of the ventilation system. In time, the sounds reach the patient wards, where cripples and war veterans inhale the scent of disinfectant through their widened nostrils and press their ears against the cracks in the old wooden floors, allowing fragments of sound to infect their fantasies and tease their senses. Laundries, drying rooms, janitorial closets, abandoned chapels, and wine cellars in the older wing of the building become sites of secret gatherings where hospital staff inject themselves with the creature’s blood. The blood seems to fulfil an innate longing to escape the solipsism of the singular body and merge into something greater — a new form of communion where every thought and feeling finds an echo. Over time, the shape of the god that layed the eggs, and infiltrated the human bloodstreams were forgotten. The Mother/Father, who had once borne the upper torso of a human, with two malformed arms convulsively raised toward the heavens, became once more a creature of this earth: the swollen arms transformed into wings, the lower body with its many stomachs into the fragile abdomen of a butterfly. In “Memento Anatomia” the butterfly god is being dug up by its children. Humanity has transformed into an interconnected system of limbs – a shared consciousness. They look to their father/mother for answers, and are met with a heavy silence as his/her still decomposing head takes its final breath. Closeups of the individual paintings that form the triptych can be found in my portfolio.