Spring Equinox

A liminal offering

for the last day of winter.

Lighting & refraction experiments for my MFA thesis project.

Lighting & refraction experiments for my MFA thesis project.



Below are the remnants from my latest installation from our Winter Open Studios, love letter to { }.


Much of the ink from the letters has faded and crystallized into the borax solution. The text on the letters may be faint, but their intentions have become solidified into crystal remnants, artifacts, mementos, and well wishes for the unknown.





I’ve been meaning to do a free write, but something’s been holding me back - maybe it’s the stress, the gray winter days, my ego & the many layers of my identity all together in one…

My parents used to say that I’d become a screenwriter, or maybe a tree-hugging activist, a lawyer even. What connected these many conjectures was beyond me, but they felt strongly that I would manifest my creativity through writing. Perhaps if I had taken creative writing classes at UCLA, a poetry class even, I would have been more inclined to such arts.

In the end I felt like the structure associated with social science papers and film critique hindered my creative voice, made it unfortunately formulaic, good enough to read, maybe even interesting, but generally dispassionate. As we take shifts into spring rebirth, as I move further into my MFA thesis (both the production and the writing), I’m hoping to re-channel my written storytelling magic.

What I have been continually fighting, avoiding, and struggling with is the crux of my MFA thesis. Yesterday I came to a revelation that the installation itself explores the crossroads of memory, crystallization, love and longing. A curious mix of interpersonal reflection and social interaction. A tension between the ephemeral and the material, stemming from a nostalgia of something that can no longer be. An examination of timelessness, looking backward with intentions to move forward. Perhaps an ideal for the unseen? For a time and place space beyond the present, filled with interstitial and intersecting realities. A space between us, shifting in and around us, pulsing, glimmering, waiting.

Is my MFA installation a love letter to my diaspora? to Venezuela? to the other? a love letter to something unknown. Something intangible, an invisible matrix reaching beyond one thing. It could be that its very thingness is what causes me such mental struggle - like morphing tesseracts in my mind. How to define it so simply?