I Re - Visit - emotions (Traces - 07/2021)

Emotions I

Nature – Life. 

The AIR reflections WATER. The WIND when it caresses my skin. The Cobalt BLUE SKY. The LIGHT of the SUN its brilliance and color. The water wetting my feet on the beach...So many times so many beaches walked, I need to walk on more. It is always a pleasure to be in them...the vastness of the landscape ... the distant horizons... Living beings...seashells... bugs ... move around the world ...north... south... center... east... west ... They were the first emotions after listening the origins of man in the Altamira Caves. When I'm in nature I borrow some items ... stones, earth, seashells, leaves, feathers when I get home I keep them in jars in bags or translucent envelopes are my treasure my precious stones... They have traveled, through many place they come... they go...leading me to feel the most essential... I still haven't opened the jars. I opened the box of cactus wood from the north of Argentina, I find many bags and a small transparent envelope with the bark of a tree, it looks like an earring because of its filigree, mother-of-pearl seashells, crab legs, beautiful because of its color and texture. Why did store them in transparent bags and envelopes? For care... protection... classification... 

I really like to put items in bags that I can see the contents of. There is a petrified sea urchin I varnished it long ago for care of wear, I can see a hole where its viewpoint once was...there are 14 bags...

... classified by similarities, differences, identities, bivalve mollusks, stones, lands, sea urchins, leaves, bird bones, a land snail shell, treasures found in the south kept in a box from the north all elements from the earth... beginning and origin...

Emotions II

Memory

I am excited to have been in Teruel with some friends touring the area Wondering the trench fields from the Spanish civil war ... Feeling that my father could have been there. As he fled to the south of France with his fellow artillerymen and his dog Bobi, he left him at the border in the hands of a French gendarme who promised to take care of him...His stories from the Alambradas concentration camp carving a wooden chess set to play with his colleagues of Barrack 18. I am moved by that phrase of my mother from when I was only nine years old ... I couldn't even carry the my doll...fleeing with hes family from Castellón to Valencia during the war of '36.

I am excited to be in the Mediterranean, the movement of the sand its swaying accompanied by the wind and the water...

I am the daughter of immigrants in this coming and going of beings,the elements, the things, the transfers I re-mean what I am finding 

Traces of existence ...That grain that smell that conch has, in its DNA the memory synthesis of universal existence. 

I remember when I was a child I drew furrows and marks in the sand

the next day they were modified by time ...I remember games when my children were young ...re-drawing or building volumes in the sand immense emotion the reunion or the farewell with my loved ones our comings and goings shore-to-shore travel ...

Emotions III

Freedoms

I go back decades I look like in a movie in the Valdez Peninsula, Chubut Patagonia, at the top of a mountain taking petrified sea urchins from the quaternary together with an anthropologist who I met there from the University of La Plata explaining how to proceed with the excavation ... there is the air ...I'm still in the south, Puerto Pirámides, Island of the birdsWe roamed it with the low tide thousands of birds among nature ... There you could not touch anything, only experience, enjoy...the air ... the sun ... the water ... the silence ...it surrounded us and contained us... sounds and beings.I’m still in the south, Caleta Valdez where the whales rest on the sand gathering strength by changing her fur in season to then migrate and continue on their way … we were with them in the utmost silence, the utmost respect, we approached the seashore to cool off ...just walk ... feel Now I am approaching a next decade I see myself facing the sea at the junction of the Mediterranean and the Atlantic Ocean Punta Umbria …my sight is heading south maybe the route of Cristobal Colon on one of his trips to the Indies ...I keep a big seashell 

brought by my parents on the boat to Argentina ... those that serve as a percussion instrument, as a trumpet or call voice, when you bring it closer to the ear you can hear the air, the sound of the waves of the sea, Shells, sand, land displaced between shores,

rediscovering itself reborn in his walk ...bridges of existence …

I am moved by some smells ...rosemary, lavender, lemon ...

certain foods fresh vegetables. garlic, peppers, etc.transports me to my mother's kitchen ...the aroma of freshly ground coffee … Today I had a dream: my granddaughter Olivia was standing next to the furniture in my room with a smile in her little handsshe had and showed me the colored papers chosen as a synthesis red, cobalt blue, yellow, green, red earth ...I am part of their DNA.