A journey of my soul to other lives beyond here.
Thoughts that wander when the wind brings freshness to the mind.
I wake up in a place where there seems to be no earth, only concrete and advanced technologies. I often go to places like this in my dreams—I know they are not this reality, perhaps futures or coexisting dimensions. Time does not really matter, since it is only a law that governs this dimension, this planet.
When the barriers constructed by this Matrix are broken, it becomes possible to perceive how the world stores memories in every corner. Nothing fades here—everything remains recorded and continues to echo, repeating at every instant.
The ships that once arrived on these shores keep arriving; the peoples who lived in excellence and harmony with nature continue vibrating in other dimensional layers; the ancestors continue their rituals and wisdom, sending signals throughout the cosmos, to all that holds life—just as we continue living in all past and future existences, in conceptions of being that are not limited by the rational logic of linear time to which we’ve been conditioned.
This planet stores all information—everything ever spoken or touched.
The soul travels; it remains alive in the past that is the present, and in the “future” of other lives beyond here. These coexisting layers of the spirit influence each other at every moment, interacting through signals and intervening in one another.
Feel your body breathe in all the layers where life exists!
I exist in multiple dimensions—this one and many other worlds.
Wholeness is connecting with the powers of every part of the soul that exists across so many layers.
Offering to All Who Came Before Me Across the Sea
I paint as a form of offering,
As reverence and gratitude for the blessings that were certainly granted to me by ancestry.
(This vibrates here, and I keep repeating it as a mantra, for these are not empty words.)
I live today because all those who came before me are eternal,
For they survive within my body when I exist, and outside of my body when I manifest them.
This is an offering to all who came before me across the sea —
Those whose stories I could never know.
A truly repetitive narrative, I think, yet I cannot stop myself from saying what I feel and what passes through me,
For we are collective bodies, permeated by so many mysteries as we continue to reclaim the light of our histories.
These unknowns become playful, imaginary —
A thousand possibilities for creation and the construction of new images and truths.
My grandmother has been arriving to me little by little, with maturity.
Before, this figure represented little more than some traumas that were passed down to me, just as they were passed to her.
Today I understand that the reprogramming of genetic codes happens through reverence and love.
They change the pattern of past and future — nothing is linear or predictable.
To exist here is to exist in all layers of history and time.
I can barely feel it, much less comprehend how immense that truly is.
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Acrylic, oil, and fabric on canvas
Dimensions: 170 x 200 cm
The beasts have been guarding me from love, from all the love I have to give myself.
Not everything leaves us. It is fascinating to explore the ability to find meaning through what originates in the other. Every Ori carries its own sacredness, which is individual and also embraces the collective that may exist in the in-between spaces.
I have honestly been feeling less and less like a vessel for what communicates with me. At this moment, I could easily say that I have been undergoing recyclings, trying to transform the images into something greater and more luminous than I have been.
To capture only the fragments of what is celestial — whether mine or someone else’s — and place them before the eyes of whoever wishes to open themselves to see.
Some time ago, I was told something that allowed me to believe that the image I brought into the light came from the stars.
Sometimes it hurts too much to bring back beings who have long been unaccustomed to this world; with nowhere to land, they all end up bound to my heart, as if by a thread I am not capable of cutting.
If I have not made myself clear, what I mean is that every form has life.
I’ve been saying for some time now: everything that takes form carries its own intention for being in the world, even if born from dreams — that too is fantasy, you know?
A fragment so faithful to reality that I grew tired of forgetting it every night, for I have no idea what spaces I inhabit in half of my existence.
And I definitely do not want to understand or to search, because I have always gotten lost — whether in silence or in words.
What I realize I must say, to bring a temporary end to what I began, is that the figures I create are no longer mine, even if I remain forever the heart that keeps them beating.
