© 2026 Art Storefronts
v4.4.25
A masterwork of 2010, Abraksas is a visual riddle and an existential mirror, painted in the language of myth, irony, and brutal honesty. At its center, a jesting, bipolar figure—a caricature of humanity—balances itself between heaven and decay, crowned by a fortress-tower hat, its clock forever ticking at five to midnight. The figure holds a fragile Earth like a toy, pinned to the floor, marked not with hope but with a fractured peace—R.I.P engraved at its heart, a bitter reminder of how the word "peace" has been prostituted in a world of violence masked by diplomacy. Its limbs rest on Van Gogh’s chair—a nod to madness and beauty intertwined—while its fingers toy with vices: cigarettes, wine, fleeting pleasures feeding a deeper sickness. Around it, symbols swirl—the rider, the snail, the trumpets of Jericho, the mosquito, the Y-shaped wound—all telling a story of the slow march toward self-destruction disguised as progress. Above it all, the red void—half apple, half tomato—paradise lost and consumed, pierced by the artist’s own signature like a black seal of the times we live in. Abraksas is not just a painting. It’s an anatomy of modern humanity: sacred and profane, divine and diseased, laughing and weeping at once.
Igor Kozulejvic
Im just a tool used by higher creation.