RECORDS OF THE BODY
“The landscape of these paintings is configured in an area situated between the real and unreal, sleep and delirium, with the awareness that there are symbolic driving forces in the human psyche, forces that push us to create imaginary worlds, myths, dreams, desires that often connect with the mystery of sexuality and death, with birth and the fragility of human life. It’s also in the case of this painting; it accounts for the many incarnations of human history, as a sort of excavation of the senses that are found within sacrifice, violence and death.” (text by Eugenia Brito, poet and Chilean critic )
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“Huellas” (Traces) (2012-2013), is the formation of a story that operates by besieging the places where the passage of human life takes place. (…)Subtle, mysterious, he gazes that sharp/keen eye which sees/looks and retains a memory, of that which existed, cohabited, had sex, and then was relegated to oblivion in those secret confines that we sometimes visit in our dreams in distress, in sadness, searching for its message and its belonging, like those bodies with which oneself coexists, that have been remnants of life in which we nest or insert the being. They are, then, rooms in which the being passes. In a way, thresholds. Since the sheets are where man spends most of his life.” (text by Eugenia Brito, poet and Chilean critic )
The slight pace through which he writes its story in successive archeological layers in which the mark and its biology separate fragile but inexorably the human being from other beings. The mark as part of living matter is its most precise trace of life; the history of man consists of marking places, with blood, with sweat, with semen if a man, or with menstrual blood if born a woman.(…) He sleeps there, makes love, and sometimes dies on them.”(text by Eugenia Brito, poet and Chilean critic )
RECORDS OF THE COVID
In late February I caught Covid-19 in Barcelona. On April 3rd, after almost a month, I left the hospital, weak, very weak. I had been in the ICU, my immune system was in crisis, my tired body was ready to let go and my mind was struggling, alert, without sleep. I was about to “cross over,” and came back to life …
Leaving the ICU, I made some sketches of what I felt I was living. I sketched with what I had at hand. You will see the result in this sample. It is something experiential, precarious, a way of seeing myself at the limit, and recording it as awareness of my own fragility, of life’s beauty and of the naturalness of death.