There is a unique place holding a core spot in the few early memories I can recall: my grandparents’ house. I was the first child and my parents had to work, thus naturally I spent a sizable chunk of my early childhood there.
Although most of my memories are deeply submerged in the pool of my oblivion, there are some that still are there as if they were old incomplete uncut short-films.
Spending a lot of time by myself was normal and actually, I enjoyed looking towards other apartments’ windows, trying to make sense of the reflections I could catch, or coming up with stories from those silhouettes that escaped through the glasses. This is how I nourished my curiosity and imagination.
Late in the afternoon, a golden sunset light came from the side window and used to bathe the entire living room. That warm golden light used to wrap me into my own world full of details, reflections and shadows; but it also marked the end of another day.
There was no genuine need to interact with others and that’s how I learned how to see, to experience, and to live in the world. Being alone in my head became my identity, but also turned into a challenge connecting with others, even with my own parents that had already turned into a strange couple.
In a world that apparently is evicting us from reality to places us more and more into virtual realms, these images function as my tickets to travel in space and time, towards my romanticized childhood memories. They are the escape hatch for an overwhelmed mind that chases some leftovers of solitude and some remaining quietness with sunsets and their orange light.
Continuing the circle, and connecting with my other intimate projects, this series sparks an imaginary dialogue with others and specially, with my parents as if they were still around.