Barcelona, Spain
# 1 hungry u? Very foggy this afternoon. La Otra Orilla: http://home.graffiti.net/leetamargo:graffiti.net/laotrao.htm
...es lo q tienen las barbacoas, q t pones to marrano... The Robins are back ;)
One more thru the star scope Woodpecker. Made a profound impression 2006 The moments of the body, its history… the cycles by which it passes, the traces which stick to it… The structuring ones, which belong to our personality, and those more volatile, ghostly of our hopes and fleeting dreams. Traces of what we were during a little time, of what we are, what we will remain, who we were and who we would have liked to be; of that we will not be, we do not want to be or who we can be, sometimes. Through this series, these interior states, through which everyone may undergo, are explored, as a kind of cycle in which we feel imprisoned, between moments of enthusiasm and moments of low spirit… works as reflections of our own diagrams of behaviours, reactions, and interior movements, meanders through which, we all sail. Improved by ageing, these images illustrate to what extent certain structures, are formed and remain rooted in us since childhood, in spite of the work of time, to update itself throughout life. Each one of us is presented as a form of an irreducible sum of perceptions, affects, emotions… as the many experiences of which our memory preserves accessible only one negligible part ; this experience treats this series, of the capacity of each to decode the body of the other, its history… through its body language, words and attitudes. Visible traces, invisible ones, all influence our way of being. Whether they return with regular interval, or in a random way, unsolved matters follow us… marking the body, they re-appear, sometimes rough, sometimes transformed. Fearing not being able to rid ourselves, as the traces touch our conscience, while we look around us to grasp them in order to distant ourselves more easily; indelible, they however confront us with the same feelings… whatever the intensity, they remain always present. Like a partition of a life’s music, expressing various emotions, this series arranges each image, through a rhythmic writing, in a cycle where despite being able to appear identical, all prove to be different.
One of Joys ceramics. I wanted to make an impression and the next photo shows that. Made a profound impression 2006 The moments of the body, its history… the cycles by which it passes, the traces which stick to it… The structuring ones, which belong to our personality, and those more volatile, ghostly of our hopes and fleeting dreams. Traces of what we were during a little time, of what we are, what we will remain, who we were and who we would have liked to be; of that we will not be, we do not want to be or who we can be, sometimes. Through this series, these interior states, through which everyone may undergo, are explored, as a kind of cycle in which we feel imprisoned, between moments of enthusiasm and moments of low spirit… works as reflections of our own diagrams of behaviours, reactions, and interior movements, meanders through which, we all sail. Improved by ageing, these images illustrate to what extent certain structures, are formed and remain rooted in us since childhood, in spite of the work of time, to update itself throughout life. Each one of us is presented as a form of an irreducible sum of perceptions, affects, emotions… as the many experiences of which our memory preserves accessible only one negligible part ; this experience treats this series, of the capacity of each to decode the body of the other, its history… through its body language, words and attitudes. Visible traces, invisible ones, all influence our way of being. Whether they return with regular interval, or in a random way, unsolved matters follow us… marking the body, they re-appear, sometimes rough, sometimes transformed. Fearing not being able to rid ourselves, as the traces touch our conscience, while we look around us to grasp them in order to distant ourselves more easily; indelible, they however confront us with the same feelings… whatever the intensity, they remain always present. Like a partition of a life’s music, expressing various emotions, this series arranges each image, through a rhythmic writing, in a cycle where despite being able to appear identical, all prove to be different. (Rotten) food 2006 Of “food” with “rot”, the border is thin… as is fragile the passage between two conditions of the same thing. Between waste, food which rots, and humus, rot which nourishes, “(Rotten) food” can really make us ask questions about our contemporary society. Out of context, lost in a kind of elsewhere, the only thing to see and look in the image, the subject represented imposes a halt, forcing the spectator to confront, to question oneself and to eventually react perhaps: Why did this food rot ? What will we do with it? Can we find that beautiful ? What does it mean ? Lonely in an unidentified space, the subject takes another direction ; more than the food which rots, it returns to the more universal image of food and degradation. Food physical, as well as intellectual and psychic. Degradation of the objects, as of the individual who will also end up deteriorating and die. Degradation of relations, situations and problems, that we can let get worse, grow acrimonious, through lack of courage or will, for fear of tackling them… whether it is at the individual level, social or universal. The aesthetically staging of the subject is the means of saying that degradation and death belong to the normal cycle of life, and asking the question : what do we do with these “dead, useless objects”? Food-object which, in the rational cities that man built, does not have the possibility of living its cycle of degradation any more. Objects born in a logic of progress and innovation, having increasingly short cycles of life, to which we only very recently included the need for recycling. Is this way of letting things rot, a will to let a world, which is not appropriate to us any more, die. This world resists whereas we would like a new world to be born which does not manage to be born ?