In this sculptural form, Homo Astralis steps beyond the surface of the canvas into three-dimensional space, yet the essence remains unchanged. The same solitary figure, suspended between the known and the infinite, now occupies real air — a body made of earth, yet seemingly weightless. Here, clay becomes cosmos. The ceramic material, dense and fragile, carries within it the paradox of humanity itself: mortal substance shaped toward immortal intention.
Unlike the painted astronaut who dwells in contemplative stillness, this Homo Astralis inhabits motion — not as escape, but as continuation. His gesture, mid-drift and open-handed, is one of perception rather than defense. It is the posture of a being who has accepted both gravity and its absence, who moves not through propulsion but through awareness. The silent pressure of his floating form makes visible the tension between fragility and endurance, between creation and dissolution.
The faceless visor reflects no image, yet it holds all possible reflections. It becomes a mirror for the observer — inviting each of us to inhabit the threshold he represents. The astronaut, stripped of identity, becomes an emblem of humanity itself: not a hero, but a vessel of consciousness, carrying the collective gaze of our species into the unknown.
In the context of IMMORTALIS CONTINUUM, this sculpture expands the philosophical terrain first opened by the painted Homo Astralis. The figure no longer resides within the illusionary depth of pigment, but in real dimensional space — where art and existence converge. The transition from canvas to clay is not an aesthetic experiment but a metaphysical one: it translates the idea of becoming into matter itself. The ceramic surface, etched with traces of the hand, reminds us that transcendence begins in touch — that even the pursuit of the infinite must pass through the material.
Thus, Homo Astralis in ceramic form is not a new chapter but a deepening of the same meditation. He floats not only before us, but among us. His silence becomes architectural, shaping the air around him. Within his still drift lies a quiet affirmation — that humanity, for all its frailty, is capable of carrying consciousness beyond its origins.
He is the same witness, the same dreamer — only now, he inhabits our space. And in that shared air between his motion and our breath, the continuum becomes real.