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Oso Parado

@osoparadoart

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Entropy Paintings DK At skabe kunst er at indfange sjælens dans i en verden af kaos. Det er en kærlighedsgerning, en udstrakt hånd mod det uendelige, hvor skønhed fødes ud af kaosets hvirvelvind. Vi søger ikke blot inspiration; vi stræber efter at forstå sjælens dybeste dybder og kosmiske mysterier. Hvorfor begrænse os til de græske klassikere? Lad os i stedet drage tilbage til tidens tågede skød, hvor urkræfterne dansede med stjernerne og skabte symfonier af lys og skygge. Millioner af år før civilisationens tøjler blev spændt, lå kilden til al kreativitet og skønhed, et sted mellem tidens vuggende bølger. I den uendelige spiral af livets entropi finder kunsten sit fodfæste, en evig flamme, der brænder i hjertet af vores eksistens. Lad os dykke ned i dette urhav af inspiration, hvor intet er formet af menneskehånd, men alt udspringer fra sjælens uudgrundelige dybder taken in Copenhagen, Dennmark by @osoparadoart
6
3 years ago
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These images reflect our lifestyle in a minimalist manner. In 2020, my ex partner Reachel and I Dwell in a very small cabin nestled in the front of the Mexican Caribbean & jungle, leading an austere existence. Our days were marked by the consumption of fresh fruit, meditation profound discussions, and extensive readings on land art, metaphysics, and mystical experiences through artistic expression. This simplicity served as a midwife for novel ideas in land art and contemplation, delving into mystical realms of non-duality. Our creative practice, employing ephemeral symbolic language, mirrored a monastic existence, fostering a unique artistic life within the verdant confines of the jungle.The frame separates art from nature, creating a sanctuary for contemplation. As alchemists, artists transform raw materials into symbols of thought, engaging in a process of exploration and discovery rather than producing mere commodities. Art is not a luxury; it is an essential aspect of the human experience. It is not meant solely to be understood but to suggest and indicate deeper meanings. For the land artist, the earth’s surface itself becomes the raw material for a sculptor’s vision, merging the natural world with creative expression in a profound dialogue. Every sphere of human activity, even eating watermelon , can be a work of art as long as it is a conscious act. Through my work, I find meaning in what might initially seem nonsensical, affirming that art is a fundamental part of what it means to be human. taken in Some Where in the World by @osoparadoart
36
2 years ago
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NEW WORK — Ajolote Verde Oso Parado (2026) I walk until my attention changes. Not to “find” an image—more like to be found by it. Leaves, pollen, stems: small carriers of weather, each holding a different hour inside its skin. I collect them the way you collect silence—carefully, without forcing a meaning too soon. This series begins as a refusal of the digital trance—an attempt to spend less life inside screens and more life inside daylight. I’m interested in returning to the body’s simplest agreement with the world: sun, air, temperature, the slow intelligence of the circadian rhythm. We are built for exposure, for elements, for time that can’t be scrolled. Back in the studio, I do almost nothing on purpose. I place. I wait. I let contact, moisture, and duration do the real work. What reads as composition is often just time doing its quiet labor—pressing, fading, staining, translating. The canvas becomes a field note of restraint: my role is to set the conditions, then step aside. These marks don’t illustrate nature; they’re evidence that nature was present—acting, editing, finishing sentences I didn’t know I started. Showing in Cmdx Art Week 2026 taken in Mexico City, Mexico by @osoparadoart
58
9 months ago
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Art doesn’t save us from the ups and downs. It gives us a place to sit with them quietly, honestly, and without shame. by @osoparadoart
9
a year ago
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Every work must be an offering. An ofrenda to something greater than us. Call it God, the universe, or the great mystery that moves through all things. That is what matters most. Not the object itself, but the gesture. A small act of reverence. A way of contributing, however humbly, to something beyond our understanding. Here in Teotitlán, Oaxaca, my hands are rough from the fire. Blistered, hardened, stained deep blue by indigo. I sit with the clay comales I shape, the drawings I make in charcoal and pencil, and I wonder: What is this? What am I doing? Where is this leading? I wish I could say I know. I wish I could say I am certain. But most of the time, I am not. I often envy artists who seem so sure of themselves. Who move through their work with clarity and purpose. But that has never been my path. My path is one of exploration. Of walking into the unknown without a map, guided only by instinct, and by something I cannot name. And even in that uncertainty, I return to this: the importance of offering. To create as a ritual, as the Egyptians did, as Steiner said, giving to the consciousness we are all part of. Giving without knowing why, but giving nonetheless. There is a difference between the market and the act of creation. One answers to the world. The other answers to something ancient, something deeper. Something that calls us to make, to offer, even when we don’t understand. These works are an example. But not the exception. Every piece I make must be an ofrenda. It is the only way I know how to keep going. To lay something down at the altar of the unknown, whatever you want to call it. And if you, too, feel lost in your work, if you doubt what you’re doing, know you are not alone. I live in that space, too. But I trust the act of offering. I trust the gesture. And maybe, that’s enough. Desde Teotitlán, Oaxaca. taken in Teotlitan, Oaxaca by @osoparadoart
8
2 years ago
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I start my days walking through the mountains. Slowly. Listening to the stones, the wind moving through the plants. I carry books in my mind—Beuys, Lévi-Strauss, Thoreau, Berger. Their words remind me: nature holds all the answers. We are not separate from it. We are nature. In the village markets, I gather roots, seeds, minerals. The elders tell me their stories—what they heal, how they dye, what they remember. I bring these fragments home. I grind them, soak them, press them into cloth. Simple gestures. Minimal. But inside them, something essential is revealed. Beuys believed la natura è la vera scuola, that nature is the true school. In his Manifesto della Natura, he called for a return to the origin, to the deep intelligence of the earth. He believe Beuys believed that art is not limited to objects in museums or galleries, but that life itself can be shaped as a work of art ,every person is an artist not because we make objects, but because we hold the power to shape the world through how we live, how we gather, how we relate. We are all gatherers. We are all makers of meaning. I live in that space. Between gathering and listening. Between shaping and being shaped. Lévi-Strauss called it bricolage, working with what is at hand. I let the materials guide me. There is no rush. Only time, trust, and the quiet knowledge of things. Color is not an appearance. It is the voice of matter itself. Ochre is the earth speaking. Green is the breath of a leaf. These are not symbols of nature. They are nature, alive in another form. Berger wrote that to truly see, we must go beyond appearances. In this practice, I don’t observe. I participate. I listen. I remember. In these minimal acts, I recover myself. Everything begins here. And everything returns here. taken in Teotlitan, Oaxaca by @osoparadoart
36
2 years ago
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The magic sacredness of Grana Cochinilla lies in its silent transformation. A breath of different PH awakens deep crimson tones; a whisper of alkalinity, and it shifts toward soft violets and pinks that seem to breathe. Between red and purple lives a universe of shades, revealed only by water and time. Yes, it is magic the patience of a color that is never the same, and always new. taken in Teotlitan, Oaxaca by @osoparadoart
2
2 years ago
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The Wall of my Studio old work -A palimpsest of sedimentary cognition, this anti-monument exists within the implicate order of all inscribed surfaces, an enfolded totality where each incision, each woven filament, is a collapsed manifold of signification. The bovine vector, traversing this stratified mnemonic field, ceases to be a discrete entity. It is a liminal oscillation between presence and vestige, a dyadic articulation of periphery and persistence. Here, the epistemic residue of symbolic morphology operates at the event horizon of semiotic entropy, wherein the wall as object performs an autopoietic recursion of mythic retrieval. The integument of desertified clay functions as both the ontic substrate and the retinal prosthesis of an amnesiac topology, one where figures emerge not as delineated signifiers but as metastable apparitions in a pre-phenomenological terrain. This is land art as aetheric autogenesis, where material and memory coalesce into an opaque syntax of primordial inscription. The syntagmatic imbrication of woven matter and excoriated glyphs suggests a metanoic implosion, a semiological torsion field, where the sign disarticulates and reforms in a state of continuous deferral. The bovine’s ambulatory trace is not movement but a superpositional cartography, a quantum-adjacent traversal across the latent architectures of the unconscious. Nothing here is readable. Nothing here is arbitrary. The archetypal chthonic lexicon embedded within the strata does not speak, it oscillates, it interferes, it folds into a holographic field of pre-linguistic compression. The implicated order is not within the wall, nor within the cow, but in the unseen attractor that binds them, an esoteric toposophic filament where presence and erosion are indistinguishable vectors of the same unfolding totality. taken in Todos Santos, B.C.S. by @osoparadoart
0
2 years ago
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Art comes alive in the presence of those who witness it. Deep gratitude to everyone who joined the show your presence completes the creation. taken in Mexico City, Mexico by @osoparadoart
8
2 years ago
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Opening Thursday @hammrd_gallery Feb 6th Valladolid 70 Roma Norte 11 am - 6pm Then came the desert. A voluntary exile. A retreat from the noise, the expectation, the saturation of the senses. Here, stripped of external interference, a new approach emerged, not in opposition but in reconciliation. The process became intuitive, stripped of unnecessary adornment, driven by an urgency to see more by seeing less. Painting without glasses, quite literally blurring the edges of perception, the artist sought a return to simplicity, a way of working that was raw, organic, almost childlike in its honesty. This work is, in essence, a reconciliation. A reconciliation with the father. A reconciliation with the self. A meditation on absence, on negative space, on the silence between the notes, on the things we do not say but that still shape us. It is an exploration of exile, not just physical but emotional, psychological, existential. And in that space of retreat, a bridge was built, unknowingly, back to the very thing he once resisted. What emerges is a visual language that is both deeply personal and universally resonant. It speaks in textures and tones, in restraint and release, in the power of what is left unsaid. In this moment, the work stands as both an ending and a beginning, an acknowledgment of the past and an opening toward what lies ahead. taken in Roma Norte by @osoparadoart
10
2 years ago
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Weird Life : a Desert X instalation, In this emergent semiotic architecture of land art, where landscape transmutes into a multidimensional locus, we encounter a new liminality one where hyper-terrestrial it and post-human perception converge. Each piece functions as a symbiotic artifact, encoded within the implicate matrix, a parallax dialogue wherein art, observer, and environment coalesce into a recursive network of enfolded meaning. Here, augmented materiality transmigrates beyond tangible space, refracting through a techno ontological prism that redefines the future of perception itself. manifests not as mere installation but as an interstitial holograph a temporal fissure in the cognitive lexicon, suspending presence and extending the spectrum of relational being. It is not art in the conventional sense but a trans-phenomenal vernacular, an anticipatory syntax inviting us to reimagine our coordinates within a cosmos where creation and consciousness are no longer distinguishable entities but entwined vectors in an unfathomable, self-echoing continuum. @_desertx by @osoparadoart
7
2 years ago
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Being an artist is finding a new way to breathe, to exist, to give life to what would otherwise be lost in silence. by @osoparadoart
1
2 years ago
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