In the past couple of years, I’ve drifted through restless waters — waves of feeling that rose without warning and pulled me under. I’ve wandered through strange terrain, lived scenes that felt like cinema, and spent long nights with nothing but thought — circling, spiraling,  stitching fragments together in search of meaning.

It hurts. But it also reveals.

Averso is what surfaced from that quiet storm. A vessel. A gesture. A way to give form to the things I cannot say — to preserve them, to honour them, to return to them decades from now and remember who I was in the blur.

To understand.
To forgive.
To heal.

Here, I revisit the corridors of childhood, and the trembling thresholds of youth — where emotional dependence and innocent body shaming carved into me, and where my father’s final, deliberate act redrew the map of my life.

His choice was his. But the echo of it lives in me.

This project — this offering — is the most intimate thing I’ve made.  I’ve been over a year working on it, and have the incredible pleasure to have an amazing group of beautiful, inspiring, creative and wholesome people that has helped me along the way.

Visually, I was captivated by the slitscan effect  — a bending of time and motion — that my friend Nathan introduced me one day, and found mentorship in the work of Andrew Davidhazy, Zbig Rybczynski, George Silk, Derek Burnett… Their vision helped me craft my own.

These pieces I make are letters to my future self — quiet archives of a soul. And though they are born from solitude, I share them in case they reach someone. Stir someone. Make someone feel a little less alone in their own deep waters.

With all my love,
Lucas