|___||___||Family secrets are the silences of a lifetime.
Brussels, a day of sorrow.
It took me a long time before I could tie up the different strands of my story.
The truth was only spoken after thousands of miles and long hours of therapeutic conversation. After years of separation I had the opportunity to see my mother again before she died.
I was able to speak to her one evening in Rome. In our memories we returned together to the forest in Peru and finally from her lips came my story.
I saw my grandfather’s lust and my grandmother’s furtive look, and then I saw five little girls taken out of the convent as soon as their first period arrived. I saw their surprise and their pain. I saw the force of a pathological desire.
I saw from where I came and why I left.
Since then, death has done its job and carried away my mother and her secrets.
I have remained with my answers and a sense of emptiness.
When a problem is finally given a name, its space is defined, it has an outer edge and everything becomes possible.
It is of this possibility that I speak in this exhibition.
I am not guilty and I have finally accepted that.
|Sleep Tight, 2008, matress, barbed wire, wood, variable dimensions||Sleep Tight (detail), 2008, matress, barbed wire, wood, variable dimensions|