Once upon a time a Man came out from the cave – a damp and cold one, open to snakes, spiders and bears –  and decided he had enough of that cavernicolous lifestyle, and built his first shelter. It was crafted out of mud, stones, tree branches and his own excrements to ensure the proper insulation. That was the end of an era populated by things still waiting to receive a name and a definition, the so-called Golden Age, and the beginning of Progress, the most misunderstood and overvalued concept that brought us Modernity, Money, Religion, Gun Powder and Low Fat Milk, just to name a few fuckups from its Multiple Mirrors of Complications. Since then, to cut a long story short, the human race evolved with a mental split between good and evil, natural and artificial and, last but not least, indoor and outdoor. The Earth was not continuous anymore, i.e. an endless Paradise where man once shared, along with the creatures that roamed, flew and swam the planet, the resources of an untouched world. Back then, Man had a pristine place illuminated by its own bliss where -yes – he had to fight for everyday survival but, on the other hand, he enjoyed the immense reward of a primitive, windy, exciting freedom. Jeremy Miranda brings back the subject – ‘that’ subject – joining the broken anthropologic pieces of the puzzle into a single space. We are not using the word canvas, or picture. Jeremy Miranda thinks further, pushing this “space” out of the physical limits of the frame, to give us back the sense and nostaliga of a overwhelmed, uncontainable loss. Behold! Its paintings must be watched with both eyes, each one working on two perspective plans. The experience is mindblowing. The message…well, everyone will find whatever is going to surface from its unconscious. Wow!

(This article was written after drinking a Campari Bitter, shaken, with a drop of gin.)














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