MASKS

Masks speaks of lineage, of our bond with ancestors and questions the way sacred objects are reduced to ornaments, stripped of meaning, placed on shelves with no memory attached.

At times unsettling, at times serene, a guardian, a force, the mask enters into communion with the human.
They gaze at one another, reflect one another, merge as if to say: those who have passed still walk beside us.

Majestic, silent, powerful, they carry the breath of the other world.

Terrifying, healing, guiding, they fascinate and transcend.
More than festive adornment, a mask is a voice, a memory, a spirit.

It does not only hide, it reveals: the soul of the ancestors, the wrath of the gods, bridges between worlds, seen and unseen, the living and the beyond.

Born of sacred wood shaped by hand in the hush of the forest, anointed in ritual, where chants rise like smoke, where drums echo heartbeats and flames. To honor the dead, to pass down forgotten truths.

Masks with a thousand faces, from here, from elsewhere.
Shards of myth, fragments of eternity.
A mystery, a presence.

Forever alive.