The sea is beauty and terror; a familiar entity still unfamiliar after so many years beside it. The water has glittered in my eye and dragged me across its abrasive floor. Without time, it pulses and waves. With each thrust and turn those waves continuously join everything under one fold murmuring a never ending dream that foams on the fringes of consciousness.
As a young girl, the Colombian flag was described to me in three facets. My mother said the red stood for blood, the yellow for wealth, but the blue embodied the two oceans that hug the nation's shores. Francisco de Miranda created the common yellow, blue, and red flag of the old Gran Colombia based on Goethe's theory of primary colors. "It is not that the world is made up of yellows, blues, and reds; it is that in this manner, as if in an infinite combination of these three colors, we human beings see it." Yellow, blue and red: all the world can be made with only these three.
These glimpses strive to breach the cultural compartments in my life by infusing the vibrant colors of Colombia into the bland New England landscape I was brought up in. These objects are a melding of the past with the present; familiar shards thrusted upon the beach shore, recycled by the sea. The color demonstrates a child like attitude that intimately resonates a yearning for home with the subject matter alluding to a historical misplacement. In each image the mind has attempted to rationalize the same world with hungry eyes alongside a soul in wild flight; a soul that can only exist alongside the water.