For this collection of works, I drew from my far reaching memories: from a life of beauty and camaraderie, in the midst of jungle vibes and bright colors I was so fortunate to have, in my adored Venezuela. I thought about the children who are in need today and their hardworking , oftentimes single-mothers. I thought about their wishes and dreams, and visited mine.
There is a separate and specifically different, entire culture just for Christmas in Venezuela. Food, dance and music ( together with instruments ), switch for the whole month of December. We dance and listen to gaitas, with tambora de gaita marabina ( el cuero ! ), furruco y cencerro and eat hallacas y pan de jamón.
I think it is the velocity in culture, that separates us. If we are willing to connect, then we can mind the gap, tend to it.
Not at all long ago, we were in Choroni, heading to Chuao by peñero, which takes about one hour holding to dear life on the spiky sea. The young fisherman had brought his little nephew with him . What is your name? Amanartis he said .
“I am an artist”.