︎


Giracroma
Franca Gallery, Two snails Providencia.
Curated by Francisca Donoso.
2019

“Giracroma” is part of the project "Laboratorio del Color" developed between 2019- 2020. “Giracroma” approaches the physical study of color in movement.
Ver Catálogo  


    You opened your hands while an iridescent waterfall dripped from your eyes.You collected the elixir in a small pitcher of black clay, that made you in its reflection remember ancient suns.It is the flame or the water that escapes from the spinning circles,Are perhaps both parts, what the wind does not pronounce, what the window cries out.Sounds that pour in time while the light rises and falls.

                                    Waterfall       
                                  Quiet                   
          Flashes           
      Reflect   
      a         
        voice.

 Song of things,
under the golden star,
behind its igneous glow

                                                                                Turn             
                                                      the                       
                                                                  corollas           
                                                               of                 
                                                                    the                                                                                                                                                                poppies.       

                                                Comets             
                                    at                               
                            flight
                         
from 
 butterflies
          to       
    spreads
                                                                                      the light

 Fluid
Furrow
Caress

  Quietness contained
in the rotation.

From some center
emanates
the continuum that words miss,
like angels making rain
where the dawn wets their feet.


Wheels
go
go
Or come

And the moon no longer remembers such silencenor the birds gathered in the seventh valley can find it different from their love.

Asunción Mena

*

Love doesn't exist

    "All those things that spin are time barking. TIME. THE VERTIGO. THE DEATH. that's why we throw ourselves at the tires."

    Germán Carrasco's dogs reminds us Quijote when he sees  30 windmills: "they are unbridled giants, with whom I intend to battle and take away all their lives, with whose spoils we shall begin to enrich - Look, sire, “replied Sancho” those that appear there are not giants, but windmills, and what which in them looks like arms are the blades, which, turned by the wind, make the millstone go. Both agree on achromatopsia or vision in black and white, figure and relative background that prompted a Cyborg to create a microphone that translates light waves into musical notes, so synesthesia would see sounds.

    But how have we seen something as dark as a planet with no sun or orbit? A telescope that traces light interference, wavelengths and location or distance of the rays, is able to see a shape that cuts through the darkness? The planet is evident although it has no pattern, it is immersed in the void, it is also light. Blind vision is that vision that, when a novident is asked about the location of an object, they can answer perfectly where it is. Although 10 million times smaller than a needle, the object the size of an atom, which measures the effects of weak and strong force, is the microscope that graphed the atom as a solar system. In unison the particle accelerator glimpses wandering planets, called quarks. Love does not exist.

    I mean we don’t see things as they are, virtues are jealous because they aim at perfection at the expense of other virtues, it is a war against seeing well, an eye for an eye. But they would all use three equal means, which makes the sacrifice insignificant. Color (wavelength-refraction) shape (size-scale-matter) and location (space-time). Each axis of the graph is part of the visible spectrum, which is enlarged by two frontals of hunting nature, providing stereoscopic vision. The eye has millions of photoreceptors very similar to the Kepler telescope, which inverts the image as a microscope and then as any perceptual process, travels to the brain nucleus interpreting this data with dedicated neurons and other plastic ones that are inferring the human planet. The journey, the process, is the other way around, from the brain nucleus to the eyes, proving two current paradigms: the inputs are not five and are all combined like a tangle of wires and secondly, vision and imagination use the same memory route. These truths do not fit mathematically and there are theories of a supposed rope between the eye and the sun, theories of tightrope walkers who imagine with their feet. Art is a war against imagination, it is about making images real, unchaining or constructing the visible spectrum, normalizing the axes to see something that remains evident to us, on the surface of the eye, in the limit of the image that is not the spell of the norm. Connecting appearance with appearance, speculating for the sake of speculation, as children discover memory. Upside down, you can only be quiet and calm when you have a bow and arrow at hand. You say a cause sanctifies war? I say to youthat war justifies all causes. F. Nietzsche.

Claudio Valdés Mujica.
C y S Sociedad Anónima.