Statements:

 

New strange places to live reflects about the places where we live, the spaces we inhabit, occupy or pass by, and also the ones that we don't really know but usually live in our imaginary. Our houses, streets and predilection places are part of our identity. An effective change of place involves the creation of a new individual and collective identity.

The spaces I represent are strange places, incomplete, full of nothing, places that tell us no stories and where absence and silence prevail. Uninhabited, perhaps very uninhabitable, they seduce us, however, in order to experience them. Its geometric component reinforces the strangeness of the human intervention in a place that isn't in fact a place, where nobody lives or constructs memories.

Painting emerges, in a last instance, as a mean that allows the existence of this strange places that I imagine inhabiting, registering a disorderly combination of things that I know and don't know, landscapes that I find without wanting and without detaining me. The representation of this space allows us to be and stay in it, taking advantage of its particularities and looking for its identity.

September 2009

 

 

Uninhabitable:

I cannot stop or stay in these places. It isn't possible to live nowhere and nobody actually lives in these found and lost spaces. When I see them, instead of just looking, I can rarely memorize them, neither have I got to know or understand them. They just exist for me in a passage and fugacity context, during long travels where time is almost too much for less space. Therefore, they quickly lose their identity. I keep its vastness and emptiness, the incredulity of being so much and so little, the fact that their existence is allied to being nothing at all. I restrain that expressive and seductive emptiness and realize that these places aren't actually places. They are uninhabited, perhaps very little inhabitable. They tell me no stories, nothing that I know or experience. I rarely can remember its particularity or individuality. I am interested in the images that, if existed, didn't leave a trail, the absence and the silence. I find landscapes without wanting and without detaining me.

What I finally bring with me, something that I can transfer and rearrange, doesn't exist and one cannot write or tell it. However, it is supported in a generally disarranged amalgamation of sudden and inevitable memorizations, which is consequence of the act of seeing without necessarily knowing. I invent what I don't remember.

The best of the entire journey is what I remind yet without identify or recognize. Sometimes I do not get to have enough time for so much space.

February 2009