It's all just a high-definition hollow. The horses have more grace than I'll ever scrape together, standing there in that artificial glare, looking like they actually belong to the dirt. I'm just the guy watching the loop, tracing the red curve of a ...
We have taught the cliff to curve. This is the first geometry; the mountain hollowed into a liquid poem. To wake above a private tide is to finally understand the gravity of The Vision. We have replaced the wall with a series of stone questions. We h...
The stone has finally learned to speak. We have carved the silence into a series of right angles and called it a sanctuary. This is the first geometry; the heavy birth of the floor. Why walk when you can descend into the reflection? The mountain is n...
The sun is a stone we carry on our heads. Out here, your name is the first thing the wind takes, followed by your face. We are just the geometry that remains.
My father told me that in this plain, the earth is so dry it eats your shadow first. That is why we wear these shapes.
Some of us carry the horizon on our shoulders, wide and flat like a promise that never rains. Others sharpen themselves into point...
Ever stare at a word until it doesn't look like a word anymore? These images are that feeling, but for the whole world. It's just a quiet glitch where the labels we use to make sense of things temporarily disappear.
Registro de montaje: Umbral Sinaloense.
A través de la integración de proyecciones, archivo personal y elementos de la industria agrícola, la pieza explora el concepto de origen y su traslado al espacio contemporáneo.
Un agradecimiento especial a ...
A high-end structural hallucination. Pre-Columbian brutalism for anyone who's ever wanted to live inside a limestone fever dream. The architecture finally took hold somewhere on the Pacific—part marble conversation pit, part 1970s super-villain retir...