
Tell me about the moon
I´m a lunati. And I´m sad. Dangerously sad. Continúa leyendo Tell me about the moon
I´m a lunati. And I´m sad. Dangerously sad. Continúa leyendo Tell me about the moon
That work remained guarded, hidden from the public eye. Now, ten years later, I rescue him and reinterpret him with a political vision. The situation that Brazil is going through under the government of Jair Bolsonaro causes a greater strangeness than the way in which I captured the spaces of its capital, produces a greater deformation. But it is almost a universal deformation, if we situate ourselves in the realities that other societies are currently going through and especially those where I have lived, which are the ones that I can talk about: the Venezuelan, the Mexican and the Brazilian. It is a political pandemic that makes them sick, deteriorates, deforms them. In this work, through the use of the digital negative process and the collage technique, I show what this evil means to me. Continúa leyendo Political Pandemic
Maromas – Distant and exiled life in Mexico City / Urban light. Continúa leyendo Maromas
Since January 16, 2019 I´m in Mexico City. I try to get a space in this city to live, to settle in and then bring my family that has stayed in Caracas, enduring a difficult and degrading situation. There is a lot of pressure for everyone. Anguish, fear, anger and depression are constant feelings in our recent life. Mexico City is huge, complicated, attractive, overwhelming, contradictory. It is a space that provides diversity and opportunities for those who know how to understand it and prepare to fight the day-to-day precariousness that every big city offers to those with limited resources. You have to get ready to survive in an ecosystem like this, to do anything that generates some money, but I can’t, I can’t move out of things that are done with property, outside of my professional field. And besides, I’m not young anymore and I’m exhausted. Continúa leyendo I don’t want to be strong anymore. Portrait of my mind of involuntary migrant
A cidade, quando feita de homem, língua e mulher, não fica só no osso. Não, ela é músculo e alma, excitáveis e contráteis, é porém uma especie de coração que se agita dentro de você a toda vez que andas … Continúa leyendo Nem todas as cidades são de pedra
Women in CDMX also wear colors, such as the tombs and walls shattered by the abandonment of the Dolores Civil Pantheon and La Ola Water Park. But these colors are not enough to conjure the fear of harassment, kidnapping and murder. Women in CDMX also walk alone dressed in bright colors, but most are forced to follow an uncertain, insecure course, even if they bravely approach the street. Color does not save them, nor does religion. It does not save them entrusting themselves to their dead in November, nor to the Virgin of Guadalupe. They only have to be empowered since their establishment in self-defense groups. His path seems to be drawn to a cross, behind which he always seems to wait for a male figure to perpetrate violence. From the color of the graves and the joy that seems to invoke to give happiness to the dead, there is also the fragile happiness that accompanies women in Mexico City. «Semapolis» goes about that. They are images that trace a polysemic path to warn about that reality, or those realities that intermingle and overlap in the overwhelming chaos of this cosmopolitan city that celebrates its saints and their dead in every corner. Continúa leyendo Semápolis: abandonment, color and death in Mexico City