SMALL
FICTIONS
HELD
TOGETHER
BY SPIT
Upon my return to Bogota in 2016 and my attempt to immerse myself in my country’s culture, I begin the task of revisiting spaces and collecting memories from places that used to be familiar and intimate to me during childhood. The actual spaces in contrasts to my memories are so different that they become fictions that only take place in my mind. I cut shapes found on these familiar places like old bedrooms, kitchens or living rooms and I assemble them back together in an attempt to reconstruct these dwellings that carry the memories of a migrated life. The result is a representation of the impossibility of reconstruction. These small vignettes hold the fantasies of spaces created over time and distance by a mind displaced from a home. The construction materials used, are radically confined to a frame, in an almost violent attempt to shrink the illusory dimensions that are held in the mind.
Spit (babas in Spanish) is a term colloquially used in Spanish to refer to something that is not going to hold (or keep things together, glued). when something is held together by spit, it is only a matter of time before it falls apart.