I am rigorous, precise and dedicated in my technique, but I feel the need to transmute it into a new world, one that didn’t exist until that very moment. As I knit, I remember my childhood and that weave becomes charged with love and content; I intertwine a new story that materializes. Unexpected spaces unfold.
I work with paper. I am interested in transforming the material, giving it new meaning, and in each piece finding the language that relates to my spirit.
For some years I dedicated myself to reading Japanese novels, planning a long-awaited trip to the land of lights and shadows, Japan.
Kyoto is the destination that would beckon me the most to visit.
The quarantine put a pause on the trip and inspired me to gestate a solo creation, which I turned into a ritual. I read the book The Old Capital by Yasunari Kawabata (Kioto, in its Spanish translation). I cut out and wove by hand its 210 pages as an active meditation. One page per day, revealing all of those landscapes that perhaps destiny, in a not so distant future, will allow me to discover.