|
This work references Colombian artist Pedro Ruiz’s series Displacement and Oro. As I explored his paintings, I was in awe by what he chose to place in his canoes—a yearning for plants, buildings, landmarks and indigenous culture he wished he could have carried with him during his displacement, though it wasn’t physically possible to bring. Pedro was displaced from Colombia in the 1980s, and my parents, my sister and I left in the 1990s. Instead of wishing I had brought landmarks with me, I recognize that what I carried was different. I brought paranoia, surveillance, silence, whispers, ghosts, and spirits. I brought back a haunting of generational stories left unspoken and the policing that comes with being a minority in the United States. The need for documentation, the surrender of biometrics and privacy, and the constant awareness of what is normally invisible in a police state. The parallels between the police states in the Americas are part of this baggage, a constant vigilance that any misstep could shift the course of our future. Surveillance feels like an ever-present force—my identity and documentation becoming sources of fear and constraint, never being able to plan for the future. In this piece, I reference my past work, as I often do. The red house on a hill surrounded by a body of water tainted with blood, a warped, dysmorphic memory of what was home—alongside the spirits and ancestors who have guided me. These recurring motifs act as protection and an offering, but they are also reminders of the surveillance that forced them to emerge. It feels as though they were compelled to come with me. As the paranoia began, so did the monsters who grew alongside me. The painting’s frame is surrounded with reptilian teeth, symbols of protection for this journey. To continue moving through water with all this baggage feels like entering the mouth of my ancestors. This piece also marks the first time I’ve used hemp fiber in my work—a collaboration with my father, who sent me hemp from his farm. By combining it with my paper mâché, I create a bond that reflects our shared history. This shift in material is significant, as much of my work revolves around my relationship with my family—the ties between love, conflict, and the pervasive weight of surveillance. 🐆🦂🌙🏍️🐊🦋
|
