Can we truly hold still the memories of the past, or does the passage of time shift a memory with each moment we recollect?
It is in my collaboration with ephemeral materials that come from nature that I explore this question. The weaving of memories in these objects are fragile remnants of the past, whether in creating photographs from light sensitive materials or gathering objects that are associated to a memory. I help guide the alchemy within each of the processes used, which allows for a transformation to occur. Yet I found a seeking for permanence within these impermanent objects, but they will continue to evolve beyond my control. The work deals with cycles of birth and decay, and the memories that exist in between.
Velas, 2020
Philodendron leaves
Transparency images were placed on Philodendron leaves and exposed in the sunlight over a number of days, it is the photosynthesis that occurs in chlorophyll that allows for the images to emerge. The effect of time and light at first creates the image but eventually their vividness fades as it continues to be exposed to light unless they are preserved. These layers of scattered memories are united by the ties between family members, I used an array of family photographs ranging from the 60s to today, that primarily take place in Peru.
Semiyas, 2020
Bundle dyed egg shells, nispero fruit skin and seeds, thread
The nispero fruit was harvested from the tree that my grandfather planted at my childhood home. I excavated the fruit to leave just the seeds and skin to dry in the sunlight, and the eggs were wrapped with flowers and fruit skins which left their impressions on the shells once they were boiled in water. While gently sewing through these protective layers, I was focused on the balance between their strength and breakability.
Tierra a tierra, 2020
Pit fired pinch pots, minerals
Ancient sedimentary rocks were gathered from the Peruvian mountain Vinicunca. Their metamorphic life is the result of geological matter disintegrating and layering onto the earth, as they eventually rose up from the movement of tectonic plates.
Clay was pressed into my palms and textured with my fingertips to create vessels. I wrapped them in plant matter to be fired. As I collected them from out of the charcoal, my hands became stained by the black hues that formed from the ashes of the plants that were once alive.
