Outcasts always have this desire of chasing fullness even if it is a false reality. They are sick souls, faithful for healing even in the peace of darkness. A sense of identification is a therapeutic way to heal the sorrow. Yet maybe, through artistic expression they will finally feel grounded within their scandalous and tragic lives. Art is autobiographical for the confused but indifferent for the uncanny. It is deep and intense and full of duality. In that way, portrayal of the world is expansive, they can feel the textured surface of the most intimate corners. Vivacious in feeling, but will it reveal the protagonist’s hamartia? Even so humans are transient beings, inhumane to us and the rest, but who are we to know? If inspirited, their outlandish ways can be a harmonious recurrence throughout time.

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