Marina Abramovic & Crystal Renn by Dusan Reljin for Vogue Ukraine August 2014
Season(ing)s of love (at loYOLO heights)
1am: chicken liver, ox tripe, tokwa, egg, garlic, shiitake, and kesong puti on my goto (at loYOLO heights)
With brother i shared: what the duck fries, octopussy fusili, braised the lorde oxtail, sagada orange-lambanog pitcharz~ (at Green Pastures)
The 1975 mg (at West Gallery)
Good night, sweet prince
Erin Wasson for Scanlan & Theodore by Nan Goldin
Good morning, tuyô #artisanal #northernloving (at loYOLO heights)
When a tree falls on the middle of a truck…
Happy 38th, @adrei03! (at Moonleaf Tea Shop)
Because, when you’re sick, you get what you want *sniff* (at loYOLO heights)
1,000,000,000 mg (at West Gallery)
In the scale of Dex Fernandez’s universe is this fulcrum: that something so little can transcend into the grandest experience. In 1,000,000,000 mg, he sheds a new light (LED, UV-A) onto his signature surreal characters and landscapes to trace the anatomy and itinerary of a trip into oblivion. Just as day turns into night, this oxymoronic illumination of the experience results into a double vision, the revelation of another layer of visual and, hence, textual possibilities. Complementing this with sound and animation, Fernandez offers a multi-sensory experience that approximates his personal mind exploration to a closer height.
His characters—incongruous juxtapositions of heads and bodies, like the “Pharmacist” with its devilish tail and crab-like pincers—indicate a multiplicity of egos and voices. Their visceral network of curves, as in “Trap” and “Spit”, indicates unpredictably alternating sites of meaningful connections. These bodies consist of the simultaneous expressions of the sacred and the profane, the modern and the tribal, the mythic and the scientific—a collapse of historical boundaries. Through Fernandez’s hand and its “Sweaty Palm”, he grapples to communicate a sign, to regain control beyond reflex, as his synthetic reality melds with the natural. In the realm of the chemical, the self, as in “Numb Feet”, is laid unstable, dubitable.
Immersed back in the depths of his mind’s ocean, these characters scale back infinitesimal into the likeness of planktons in “Vomit”, crammed up as if in a riot, invigorated by the energy of chaos, creating a beautiful tapestry that is an illustration of the universe, a milligram a piece.