I was climbing the mountain
when I saw the skeleton you left on the tree,
it looked the same as the tree: dried by the sun,
you have been here before and you didn't tell me,
I left you alone to go to sleep
but you passed leaving your skeleton on the tree,
between my eyes I saw it as a little white flower without a stem,
as a butterfly barely landing
it was the gray skeleton that you left standing,
waiting on the tree.
When the breeder saw
the most beautiful flower in the world
it was summer time.
There was an intense sun in the morning,
Their dead feet carrying they from place to place.
They had decided to climb the mountain
to reach the cross
and fall asleep to take the sun.
Arriving at the top
They saw the tiny houses,
They understood how the water flows
from the mountains down.
They closed their eyes
and painted the landscape inside their head
when suddenly they heard a noise,
the air blew,
They turned and saw her.
They touched a petal with their cold fingers.
The more they saw her
the more they wanted to have her.
The breeder walked and walked,
and with each step
the flower's stem extended
further into the horizon.
When they reached the end of the stem,
a beautiful flower grew on it.
The breeder sat down and cried
with their knees on their eyes
because they didn't know
how to take it from the ground.
The flower slid towards they,
climbed up their bones
and drank their tears.
-I ́m thirstyyyy!
the most beautiful flower in the world
it was summer time.
There was an intense sun in the morning,
Their dead feet carrying they from place to place.
They had decided to climb the mountain
to reach the cross
and fall asleep to take the sun.
Arriving at the top
They saw the tiny houses,
They understood how the water flows
from the mountains down.
They closed their eyes
and painted the landscape inside their head
when suddenly they heard a noise,
the air blew,
They turned and saw her.
They touched a petal with their cold fingers.
The more they saw her
the more they wanted to have her.
The breeder walked and walked,
and with each step
the flower's stem extended
further into the horizon.
When they reached the end of the stem,
a beautiful flower grew on it.
The breeder sat down and cried
with their knees on their eyes
because they didn't know
how to take it from the ground.
The flower slid towards they,
climbed up their bones
and drank their tears.
-I ́m thirstyyyy!
In this new body of works, an imaginary space connects a series of compelling personal narratives of death and love. Both the imaginary and the real elements merge in material and figurative manners, transforming them into a third space—a poem about a blossoming carcass as a continuation of life after death. In this abandoned place, growth continues, and the vestiges of a previous natural life mutate into new forms.
Blossoming Carcass narrates the story of a living skeleton-keeper and her relationship with the creatures in her care. Fragments of this narrative are combined with a material interplay that oscillates between sculptural and painted qualities. In this conjunction, the exoskeleton is an exchange between the structure and the surface, a coexistence of two states. A delicate feeling of otherness comes from within, evoking a familiar sensation linked with the similar human capacity for transformation. The process of molting is taking place slowly, and its remnants occupy the space in an apparent stillness.