Small faces, small heads, only marked by big eyes and big mouths.
They stand out from the wall as three-dimensional drawings, loaded with vigour, tractions, and pressures. They carry an exquisitely manual, simple, and human malleability.
I’m thinking of the immediacy and indefiniteness of a doodle, which despite its inherent naivety is able to mark, define, secure something.
They are grotesque masques and tracks of kisses, words, shouts, whispers, tremors, visions.