The work we contemplate today is the stevedore process of years of liturgy among rice fields. The slow process of distribution and storage of the soul's belongings. A generational connection furrowed by currents of irrigation ditches, floodable lives and green shoots in orbiting cubicles.
The pictorial mass is mixed with swirls of dust that furrow the great arid expanse during the dry months. You can see hidden songs mixed with voices from other places, leaves floating among the thousand sprouts of mud and the pompous splashing of the earth as it breathes.
The wild in the work is projected as an inner liberation, an impulsive escape towards new territories where one can encounter lost, forgotten or buried identities under overlapping forms. The need for the wild moves between losses and encounters, between atavism and liberation to give shape to the latent imaginary of everything that tries to be born again.
Sharing the adventure, living the nomadic life, recovering the voice lost in the back of the throat, dipping one's feet into water that takes possession of a celestial microcosm. Breaking it, fragmenting it, making it disappear and in an exercise of voluntary loss, surrendering to the wild.