MANIFESTO OF THE
ARCHAEOLOGY OF THE INVISIBLE
Chronicles from the Dreamlike Subsurface (Liquid Memories)
In an era obsessed with the new and the superficial, we choose to look downward, into the submerged. Art is not an act of construction, but an act of detection. We do not create; we dig.
The blank sheet is not a void to be filled, but a sedimented ground, laden with ancestral memories, forgotten architectures, and geometric ghosts waiting to surface. The task of the AROHC artist is not to impose a form, but to listen to the resonance of what is already buried and bring it to light.
We operate according to the principles of a new archaeology:
I. The Principle of the Universal Find The "archaeological site" is not a physical place, but a state of mind. It is the vast abyss of the unconscious, the world of dreams where logical forms dissolve into fluid possibilities. Each work is the testimony of a descent into this subsurface. Whether it be liquid chaos or linear purity, the origin is always a "find," never an invention.
II. The Stain as Ruin When ink falls on paper, it is the first surfacing of chaos. It is an organic ruin, a fragment of a collapsed temple in the dreamlike world. Our pen does not decorate this stain; it excavates it. Like archaeologists with a fine brush, we use the line to clean the find, to define the contours of the structure hidden in the pigment, revealing the secret order that lies within the apparent disorder.
III. The Line as Psychic Probe When the paper remains white, the excavation goes deeper. In the absence of a physical stain, the line art becomes a probe launched into the darkness of the psyche. It is a cartography of the invisible. The artist traces meticulous structures, labyrinths, and impossible geometries not because they are designing them, but because they are "sensing" them beneath the surface of the sheet. They are the skeletons of ancient thoughts pressing to come out.
IV. The Aesthetics of Revelation The finished work is not a decoration, but a document. It is the tangible proof that something has been snatched from oblivion. The tension between the precision of the line and the unpredictability of the "find" (be it a physical stain or a mental intuition) is the beating heart of our research.
We are custodians of ruins that never existed in reality, but are eternal in dreams. Collecting these works is not to own a drawing; it is to safeguard a fragment brought to light from the depths of being.