presente (sal del rey), 2020
I carry words formed out of branches and leaves into spaces I fear as a woman of color. These spaces of wilderness hold histories of persecution and my writings on land allow for statements to be spoken. Presente– in spite of all the history the land carries, I am present.
As I enter Sal del Rey, the pathway to reach the salt lake is surrounded by monte. El monte, a wilderness, is unknown to me. Entering is as much a promise of paradise as of threat. For years, the space of el monte has been used to hide violence and magic. I find it difficult to enter the space of Sal del Rey as a Wildlife Refuge and forget the atrocities border communities endured and continue to endure in this land. I enter the space with letters I formed out of mesquite branches and fresh sage. In trying to reach water, I am confronted by a sinking floor that cannot hold my body. Within the red shore line, I place the word "presente", a cry of protest I have learned to say to validate the precarious life of politicized bodies. Presente. Presente, on top of salt, red water and mud as a way to declare and harmonize.
Lazuli Residency, 2019
At Lazuli Residency in Corinth, Vermont, I became aware of how my body transitions into spaces. Vermont being culturally homogenized promised my body and mind a sense of no arrival, threat along with paradise and salvation. In trying to feel present, I researched stories and histories from the flora and fauna in Vermont. In this action, I sought common ground with my immigrant experience. I formed through rituals of knotting, braiding, wrapping and dying and collected through ethical sourcing. In my stay, my inner voice came out of me into the material and then joined the landscape.
writings on land, 2019
writings on land was first started in the Texas-U.S. Southwest/Mexican border region.