2020

Sculpture / 7’ x 2’ x 2’

Pre-owned shoes, mild steel

I learned more about my homeland the further away I got from it. Colombia, a country of opposites said to have the happiest people, amidst the misery of armed conflict and poverty.

Families shared the same shoes for generations, inherited by the next person who needed them. They were kept even when they were so old, they could no longer be used. I collected shoes for years. They are the timeline of my family’s journey and material witnesses of our collective experiences.

It is inevitable to flee from countries consumed by violence, where surviving becomes a priority, and dreaming is not an option.

Migrating feels like making sandcastles; like walking barefoot in a house with no foundation. At times, I wish I had the old shoes I left when I moved to a new country. They were familiar and nurturing; we aged together and shared difficulties.

Collecting objects has given me rootedness. It is an extension of my identity that helps me understand reality. When you’re considered a minority for the first time, the urge to fit in becomes a priority.

I found myself collecting shoes again, this time from those who became my family in this new country. I created pillars of shoes I joined and stacked by hand. Most shoes are still dirty from the last time they were used. They are a time capsule of relics, that manifests resiliency and unity. They are stories of migration, where holding onto each other and uplifting one another is what gives a sense of belonging.

2020

Installation, soft sculpture

Mixed media

This body of work grew as an artistic response to the situation in the US-Mexico border and the migratory issues regarding Latino communities. I have explored through art installations and sculptures, the various stages of a migrant’s journey and the struggles that come along with the pursuit of the American Dream.

I have a strong interest in the history of objects and garments, and the meaning they acquire after being used by one person, or multiple people. They give hints of one’s personal history, and that element works as a complement to the sense of absence of the body that once wore these garments, or used these objects.

Sustainability is a core element of my practice as an artist, so I find myself using what I consider neglected materials (that are often discarded), like pre-owned socks, shoes, blankets, and re-purposed cardboard boxes. I value the potential every material has to offer, and I explore it through de-construction and accumulation of objects of the same kind to create larger compositions.

2019

Installation

Hand stitching / embroidery

Pre-owned socks, repurposed lightbulbs, embroidery thread

That moment of truth, when all there’s left is your own two feet supporting the weight of your body while you walk towards an unwelcoming finish line that promises the brighter future so-called “The American Dream”.

Thousands of feet that know the true meaning of tiredness, pain, and sacrifice. The meaning of faith, community, and resilience.

Socks become material witnesses of a migrant’s journey, while they offer protection and become a second skin that ages along with the body. Wounds in the skin and tears on the fibers; calluses and worn out heels; a metaphor for the journey of neglected people with no sense of belonging, through neglected socks full of holes that no one wants to claim them as their own.

In the Colombian culture, socks are not usually discarded but repaired using a lightbulb as the mending tool. Mending socks for each other has been traditionally seen as an act of care for our own community, mostly practiced by grandmothers and mothers for generations.

In the midst of a resourceless economy, it is a way to prolong the life of these garments while leaving an imprint of love and solidarity through every stitch.

This collection of old socks donated by migrants of all ages and nationalities becomes the visual representation of a community trying to heal its shared wounds while uplifting one another and leaning on each other through every step of their journey towards a dream.

The holes on these socks reflect how the pain is transformed into golden threads of hope, and the wounds are covered by patches that offer some sort of comfort or relief. It all becomes an invigorating process that finds beauty in the midst of a chaotic reality and finds the light through the cracks.

2019

Garment deconstruction / re-construction

2019

Wearable puppet

Deconstructed pre-owned blankets and paper

2018

Installation & Performance

Hand cut cardboard boxes

Starting over. Building a sacred space from scratch

2018

Installation / 40” x 24”

Crochet on paper

Saudade is understood as the profound emotional state of loneliness and incompleteness for an absent something or someone. Like the emptiness of the house that I grew up in. A house where everything made sense even when it didn’t. A house where there’s still a tree as old as me that will keep growing in a parallel line… so we won’t ever meet again. A house with freshly painted walls, open windows, and open doors. Everything that remains in that empty house is a red sign that I keep blaming for taking my home away from me. An invasive object that uprooted me, and gave me an ultimatum with a load of nostalgia.

All there’s left is silence, and the echo of all the memories suddenly coming back from oblivion. I feel disoriented in a liminal space where the overwhelming passage of time is linked to the obsessive fear of losing memory. A space of homesickness where I’m looking for the answers of the questions I’m yet to figure out.