Beside the sea, there was a moment of glazed breeze. Populated pebbles of various sizes were off with abruption and collision, they are de-edged and shattered...Facing the Tropic of Cancer, they lied in curving shape, a mosaic collage of arranged sequences. The past and the future, they appeared in order. No hint of spiraling in, it was the hollowing out. The vibrated compression of oxygen dominated the stage of the philharmonic phase. The wave came, and the detachment of pebbles was filled with bubbling love. Was it a glance of sweetness or bitterness? The wave backwashed, and I found eureka, the gospel of moving stones. The turning pebbles conquered the world of land, and a special murmuring of sonic told the story of lightness and darkness. It was stoned. This was the first time I felt being so close with the stone beach and the sound of silence. I will remember this vernissage.
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