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Maro Michalakakos


False Peace

A state of tension, an oxymoron between beauty and fear, reality and dreams, love and submission, sensuality and cruelty, the soft protection of domestic interior and the coercion it exerts.


The bond and the shackle, a link that is equivalent of a shackle.
A solid link, an imperative proximity that underlies the sedimentation of identities.


A reminder… we are here on earth, beings made of chalk, made friable by death that lurks nearby, the power that constantly threatens to see us stop resisting it, desire that handles us roughly or makes us radiant in various ways.

Poses, Gazes, Uncanniness

At night the blind women of Athens
mend clothes and speak of angels.

P. Colombo

Seen and being seen, been taken and taking, submitting or being submissive, whereas the disease of erotic attraction and narcissistic punishment never leaves us in peace.

Kiss me like you'll never kiss me again

A dinner about life and death; rather life, because in order for death to exist, first of all, life needs to exist.