History like echoes in a cave, the question of death and the cycle of life, looking at the past like the recurring light that bathes the mountain at sunset. In this repetition lies the encounter with objects, places, and materials that preserve the past, like a vehicle for experience. Questions about protection and death, the encounter with a Phoenician relief and the act of pictorially replicating it, just as this doorway is replicated to make protection portable.
Paint as a mark on the surface. The witness of a body that, through time, generated an image, an image that lies and fictionalizes. Painting is a tool for capturing an event through a sensation. Among figures, fabrics, and shadows, an ancient practice is embodied. We see it in the trail traced by a flock of birds as they descend in synchronicity, instinctively and inevitably toward the earth, toward their death. Like the trails of today's stars. That which has already died, but which we do not yet know.
On the other hand, there is repetition in the figures: the hand that belongs to our unit, the shell that encases and shelters, and the ear that receives. It is a device. If the shell is brought close to the ear, the flow of the sea is heard like the pulse of blood. A single body. An organism. The assembly, the weight of the body both living and dead, which intensifies upon dying. The weights of a mobile that must remain in equilibrium.
In turn, there is the representation of a body returning to form the hills, to imitate them. And again, the hand as a hill, as a body under the blanket or under the earth. Making space for the emergence of knowledge. Intrinsic knowledge. Like when birds fly in shapes or like when flowers decide to close at sunset.
Two pesos
Two lights
Two guides
A feather and a stone
Acknowledgments: Juan Atahualpa, Juanita Nieto.
Metal pieces in collaboration with Sol Espinosa.
