Near fading/sandy time
Although time invariably exercises its strenuous dynamics in advancing over an infinite number of things, places, landscapes, sensations, beings and corners of the soul, we always delude ourselves by the human ineffectiveness to accompany it. Impregnated with sequence, frequency, and paced by the wait for precise certainty, time is diluted in the imagination, doing endless laps around the memory. We delude time so as to think in terms of our desire to be sand. And of the desire to have the elegant and dual nature of the actor-spectator, master of his time, without beginning or end.
Sandy Time echoes the gesture of trying to walk through images, a place and its horizons, learning phenomena that denounced the interest in temporality. This work deals with the landscape as thought, moves from the physical time to the contemplative one, the time recorded by photography and converted into memory suspension. Not memory which is to remember the viewed landscape, but instead to remember the malleable nature of experience in fostering the desire to live more through the digital image.
Nearly fading away, Sandy Times invites us to relax our gaze and to almost shut our eyes so that we may travel into our own time. Jorge Luis Borges was right when he said: "Gradual blindness is not a tragic thing. It is like a slow summer sunset". I like to think that escaping the images and then returning to them is an attempt to undermine the void. Be it as it may, the landscape arises when we place time into it, when we bring the horizon into ourselves.