A balcony on the sea. A nude woman leaning on the banister. A nice painting hanging, a table, a vase. A young coconut palm in a vase. A happy alligator
A meditation on the evoking expression, as in a story by Raymond Carver. The building on the left: apartments, people inside. Like accidentally peeking into other people’s lives, as if
A chemical blue equalizes surfaces and volumes. Some conversing characters are sketched. Nocturnal creatures, not necessarily human. The bright red stripe on the left could be neon light, could be
The model has a quizzical expression, her hands are set across a frame. Her hat is unusual, a French elegance. She appears sitting at a table, on a terrace overlooking
Flames burn on the left, as the flaming shi’ite invocation to Ali, cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad, for a request of strength. As in all Zalmoxis’s ambiguities, here
The winged lion. The gondola. These two subjects obviously remind us of Venice. The faraway City, a theme by itself, is not Venice at all, however. The blue/violet darkness, the
Francis Bacon never used these lights and colors, and almost never painted female nudes. We see her, blonde, almost sexy but jaded, slumped on Mackintosh’s willow chair. She is covered
This is the subject of a world famous engraving. And this painting could be an almost literal conversion in a colorful image of the black and white original work. But
Nightlife. The City not so far away. Cruising bikers, whores, transvestites and their tricks. Regular johns, peepers, pushers. The lights of the nights, all those temporary goddesses. A warm starless
