“Nymphs and fauns, soldiers and chariots, Troy and Carthage, Athens and NOTL, Zeus and Achilles, all came out of the spell, the secret, the city, the smog, the dream… Like aligned duckies, quacking their way to the art gallery… Move over buster, my name is Boaks and I’m cooking my dinner: Juliana acrylic soup, with Matisse herbs and Picasso hot sauce.
You put your tent near to the one hundred year old tree, the Tree of Life, beside the Via Appia, including the pilgrims (All Roads lead to Rome), under the blue tent of of the heavens -including stars-, the flocks of seagulls looking for divine wheat (or McDonalds crumbs?).
Craftsman, artist, recycler, gardiner, eccentric, lost and found, armed -with brushes- and dangerous, Mr. Boaks roams the land in search of colour… or truth? Between Homer and Aristotles theres is a line that divides beauty from truth. Between Aphrodite and Artemise, love and hunting, is there any border dividing the bloody arrow from the red lips? GRRRRRRRRRR.
Let the artist search for the answers, the door is open, the Valhalla ready, the Gods angry, the humans thirsty for colour, beauty and Truth.”
– Raphael Fuentes