Now on exhibit at the new gallery Carmen Art District in #20 Andres Fernandez corner V. Neri Streets in Barangay Carmen Cagayan de Oro City, Coming Home is a gathering of the works of art of Kelly Ramos in a span of two decades of artmaking. This little retrospective provides a rare opportunity to see the paintings together in one place. It is a way to discover the artist’s development over time, and see the narratives she has chosen for her themes throughout the years. The paintings on exhibit are borrowed from homes where they were already hanging on the walls of their owners. Some of the paintings were commissioned by the collectors, others used to be part of exhibitions, while yet some others were made by the artist with specific individuals in mind. The show is made possible through the generosity of art collectors who have agreed to lend the paintings to Carmen Art District for the duration of the show. May the viewer enjoy the collection, now togethe...
As the neighborhood's last flicker came to nigh, the walking stood still, the breathing spoke not a single syllable. Before it came to this, a loud gasp echoed door to door, consuming the oblivious. There it was as the oblivious saw it, having its world shaken down to a halt; everything there was at present, only sucked through a silent expanse of dark and grey. I found its grief questionable as to think I loved the wide expanse of dark. I felt alive with it, as though I could finally be at present with every part of my body: my senses, my emotions, myself; I am aware of everything at once, but I am at ease. There is no wave of strength creating a collision towards my weaknesses, there is no noise interrupting the pleasing sound of tranquility. I feel as though I have found myself back, I know myself now, only now—the flick has now turned towards my negativity, the positivity of the oblivious, and now I am spiraling back down again to that dark expanse of black and grey, and every bit of my body is tense, and I can no longer feel, and I can't get ahold of my emotions, for they are drifting apart from my grasp; fast, oh how fast it is, and it was, for it is only then I understand how hard it is to arrive at the peace ought to be separated away from someone's state of mind. Oh, how difficult it is, how difficult it is, how difficult... and yet, I choose the difficult everyday over the fast pace of a life once breathing, remembered for an incident pleasing for her ego to indulge in until then forgotten, into the void of the neverending mark of freedom for herself to think she is actually free. I choose the thought of other people pining, wanting me to continue breathing over the thought of my lungs inhaling every last bit of negativity there is to take in, as it is slowly decaying, rotten, and I am left waiting, as their neighbor's last flicker comes to nigh.
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Work by yours truly. Plagiarism isn't supported, thanks.
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