There are places that emerge in front of us as a direct expression of our own mood. Nature becomes an alchemical manifestation and symbolic expression of our innermost undeclared thoughts and feelings, transcending the materiality of the elements that compose it. Not salt, land, wind or water, then. But forgetfulness, loneliness, melancholy, lack ? or perhaps an indefinable sense of stillness that soothes the void of our soul. These landscape are reflection of an incommunicable and secret soul condition. A twilight zone that overlooks the night shores of our unconscious desires.
Solaris is not a physical, tangible dimension, but introspective. It’s the breath of the psyche that moves the wind and cradles the trembling sulfurous waters of the sea. Its voice is the amnesia that precedes the silence. Mercurial and illusory is its appearance. Sometimes it looks like barren wasteland, sometimes it turns into whirling spirals, downward paths descending into the depths of the unknown. Nebulous, alienating vastness of immutability and mutation. This is Solaris. A universe perpetually, but precariously suspended between immobility and impermanence. In perpetual oscillation…