Last update | January 15, 2023
Carbon Copy Collective

For the second iteration of Carbon Copy, we decided to do a one-day show at a private alley (in Pilsen, a Mexican-Latino neighborhood in Chicago) where about ten apartments intersect. The shape of this place was the one of a p, or a b, or a d, or a q, depending on the rotation of each letter. My contribution to the exhibition was 4 printed images depicting 4 French words: detour –a deviation from the original course–; parcours –a route or direction without obstructions–; boucle –a loop (which is also the name given to Chicago’s Downtown)–; and quiproquo -word game, funny misunderstanding or replacement of one subject for another (mainly in the theater)–. The intention was to reinforce the strange structure of the architectural space and, at the same time, enlist 4 possible ways of thinking. In that same spirit, the fluorescent green extension cable that serves to power on the lightbox where the prints are hanging also follows an absurd parcours, boucle, and detour from the interior of the basement to the exterior, emphasizing the proposed word game but maintaining its main function –conduct electricity–.

þ, Carbon Copy 2 

2018—September > November
Based on the homonym short poem of Emily Dickinson, from the book The Gorgeous Nothings: Envelope Poems, this project is a visual version on behalf of silence or the aura of everydayness. It is also a look at a 90's color palette, an awkward look at middle-class interiors, the journey of an artist in a small space, a metaphor for cooking, a timeline, the invisible presence of a body, a light experiment and, mainly, a state of mind, a push and pulls between the materiality and the immateriality of thought.


Personal card
This is a personal card, a label and a collectable graphic artwork. Edition of 100 in 6 different colors.

Studio visit

This project takes its title from a personal anecdote around a travel to Uyuni, a small town in south Bolivia, which is the point of entrance to a natural park that includes the largest salt desert of the world, as well as other particular landscape sights: red lagoons, an island of cactuses, sand dunes, gigantic plains and rocks in form of trees. The dilemma, or thought experiment, in this case, has to do with the impossibility to recreate a specific moment from that trip, let’s call it a sublime moment, and try to record the whole experience in my brain. Now I wonder, is it possible to address a memory just by thinking of it, or by thinking in similar memories? Can that memory can be as powerful as the original experience? Can it be better, different, worst, more unique? Can those questions be transformed into visual problems for an audience that doesn’t have anything to do with that story or context?

Within Receding Horizons, Sullivan galleries (SAIC)

This is a glass of milk, or acrylic, or glue, or cream, or detergent, or soap, or oil, or tempera, or yogurt, or gesso.

Gabinete 13, Lokkus gallery 

Instagram, vimeo