Sindon/Corpus.

This work represents an exploration of fabric as a living substance — breathing, sensing, pulsating in symbiosis with blood. Here, the canvas ceases to be merely a surface or an image carrier: it becomes a body. Within it circulate bloodborne images, like the venous system of another kind of being — born not of flesh, but of matter and idea, of movement, of thread and cell. This shroud is not a symbol of ending, but a form of becoming.

The gaze hidden within the depth of the fabric does not simulate observation. It belongs to no one, and yet it is omnipresent. It is born of the union between blood and thread, where the thread becomes a vessel and the blood — not fuel, but an active participant. From this connection arise not depictions, but manifestations: tears, veins, patterns — formed through the interplay of the organic and the textile.

The threads flowing across the surface are not ornament, not seam — they are lines of life. They are cells weaving a new anatomy. They do not speak of suffering, do not express pain, and do not seek solace. They embody pure being, an emotion devoid of specificity yet heavy with inner impulse. This is the stream of life, materialized in fabric.

Within the work, there is no opposition between blood and cloth. No hierarchy. No object and tool. There exists a single organism, where elements, while preserving their essence, enter into unity — giving birth to a third presence. This is an organic shroud, where fabric does not absorb the blood, and blood does not stain the fabric. Together, they generate an autonomous form, a new type of life — without center, without system, without beginning or end.

This organism is not anthropomorphic, yet it possesses corporeality. It is not static — it breathes, expands, reaches beyond its own frame. Its structure is capable of giving rise to other beings, like a self-replicating lifeform. Each new thread is not merely a continuation, but an act of birth. Each capillary — a path for a new soul, whose gaze unfolds beneath the layers of matter.

The work becomes a meditation on the boundaries between the bodily and the material, the human and the non-human, the living and the created. The shroud here is not the end of life, but its formation on another level: cellular, spiritual, sensorial. This is a fabric from which not just an image, but a presence may be woven.