MASKS

MASKS speaks of lineage, of our bond with ancestors

born of wood shaped by hand in the hush of the forest,|
sacred objects, 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, powerful, they carry the breath of the invisible world.
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.

Anointed in ritual, where chants rise like smoke,
and drums echo heartbeat and flame.

To honor the dead, to pass down forgotten truths.

Masks with a thousand faces, from here, from elsewhere.
healing, guiding, divine.
Shards of myth, fragments of eternity.

Masks that fascinate and transcend.
A mystery, a presence
forever alive.