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Some time ago I had a dream, walking through strange, arid lands, in which I had never been before. Suddenly I came across a human library, where people were subdivided into shelves according to their race, culture, religion, and social status. The white-skinned ones were on a higher hierarchical level, strategically untouchable. The religious and opinion-makers, tactically embedded in the middle of human shelves, with a single objective, to control the lower classes. And lastly, the minority groups huddled in their bases.


An eye between emotion and reality - synonymous of sensitivity, emotional weakness, or absolute truth? Psychological weakness or reverse values? Virtual reality, physical, mental or spiritual? Agony, peace, pleasure, pain, dreams, an alternate time, an insensitive cancer, subtle murmurs, death in drops. Cerebral storm, kamikaze of foolishness, psychological masochism. Each picture in the book has a context full of real stories, much more than a click, they are feelings. More than images, they are pieces of life.

Anonymous, an artistic bridge to make people aware that regardless of our race, religion, beauty, nationality, sex, social class, profession, age, culture, sexual orientation, hierarchical level, we are all equal, we are all children of God. Yes, we are anonymous, but we all feel the same joys, sorrows, laughter, tears, victories, achievements, losses, gains, thoughts, desires and dreams. The book Anonymous is an eye between emotion and reality that was born in my subconscious when my perspectives of values fight against reality, materializing what I actually feel in the fraction of a second before eternalizing an image.

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