Carneidoscopes
2017
Carneidoscopes began in the chaos of the market, with baskets overflowing with meat, fish, and fragments of once-living bodies. In that mess of forms and textures, I kept perceivig an accidental, hidden beauty. But every time I photographed them, the result was only raw, graphic, and frankly disgusting. The camera stripped away the ambiguity.
So I decided to force that ambiguity back in. By turning those images into kaleidoscopes, I disguised their brutal origin inside patterns that initially read as flowers, mandalas, or decorative geometries. From a distance, they feel poetic, almost delicate. Only when you move closer do the details betray themselves. Scales, muscles, eyes, bones, revealing what the shapes are truly made of. That moment of realization hits with a small shock, a mix of attraction and repulsion that makes the work breathe.
The beauty here is not about denying the violence of the scene, but about exposing how easily our perception can be seduced. We are drawn to symmetry, to order, to pattern, even when it's built from the remnants of something we’d rather not see. Carneidoscopes plays with that threshold: what we choose to notice, what we choose to ignore, and how even the most uncomfortable realities can hide inside perfect, mesmerizing forms.
In the end, these kaleidoscopes let that hidden beauty speak for itself, the beauty that exists in all complex natural forms, no matter their origin. Colors, textures, and structures shaped by evolution carry an intrinsic elegance. Carneidoscopes doesn’t sanitize the subject, it reveals the strange, unavoidable harmony that lives inside every living thing, inviting that buried complexity to surface and be seen.
