“Guerra’s enigmatic drawings depict anthropomorphic animals and other chimerical beings amidst dream-like landscapes, traveling through eerie forests and across clearings littered with dry shrubs, and consist of sharp, short lines so delicate that they sometimes come across as engravings or even etchings. Like Lillian, Guerra mines blood-red gemstones from the dark caves of early 20th century modernism; associations drift to Une Semaine de bonté by Marx Ernst, or even to the works of Alfreð Flóki, in the Icelandic context, from which the present author hails. Some might resist these comparisons, however; those readers suddenly consumed with a strange sense of having been catapulted into a world built by some macabre children’s book! Nevertheless, the ways in which Guerra’s work merges the haunting and the naive should inoculate the work against hasty interpretations. Image and word set off with their own provisions but ultimately journey together, in solidarity, and become the duo’s joint Pincer movement that envelops the imaginative faculties, lulling and stirring the reader with their incantations, their cryptic concoctions. Is it maybe more appropriate to liken their collaboration to a mysterious potion? One brewed from a rare composition of ingredients and an assortment of alchemical materials, which they stir in turn in a bubbling, menacingly-sized cauldron? What is in the beverage offered to the protagonist by the Komodo dragon in the first text? In order to find out, perhaps it is best to tread directly through the doors of the impossible building, empty the glass in one swift gulp and proceed courageously along the hallways, and absorb the mystifying curiosities that find you along the way.”
From the Introduction by Kári Páll Óskarsson