The dream 2- Intersections
While we dream, much of the information that the brain involuntarily collects during the day, is intersected and integrated with previous experience and can be used in future behaviors. Thus, the violence that modern man knows and assimilates through screens also haunts him in his dreams.
Related Works
A professional electrician works in the villa of the rich professional actor. The electrician is also an amateur theater actor. The love of the amateur actor seems to be greater than the famous actor. The famous actor tries to make money but the amateur tries to do what he loves.
A place of relative isolation and no influence from the outside environment. Black cloth with a small opening that the viewer enters wearing headphones and playing a soundscape I created on a magnifying glass.
It is a work of digital design in real time that in its evolution displays the Word human, relationship coupling, thoughts and feelings..
Where do memories go when they are lost? Are they still where we left them, if we don’t recall them? In this room, as private and irrevocable as our memory, objects animate a series of scenarios. A memory floods the room, another struggles to disclose itself, another one leaks back and forth in time. The idea of the ‘other’ hovers between what has already passed and what is reminisced every time. We never recollect events and spaces as such. We always enliven recollections in our own way. Through constant evocations that seek to perpetuate the existence of the ‘room’, memories converse with space and time, as well as with a part of ourselves. Either as past, forgetfulness or loss, they always contain something that is already gone.
The quarantine's experience time has functioned as a humanized time. Its previous social barbarity was imprisoned in the familiar cage of my soul and became my creation time. Each day was my friend, an eternal circular and dynamic present, a consciousness without conflicts. It was like an eternity that is experienced differently every moment. An unprecedented form of stillness gripped me and perpetuated in many abstract fragments which finally formed the new texture of my existence, in this peculiar isolation. I became from the carcass of time I was before, its qualitative disintegration… Reality was distorted and experienced illusively. The time from the alienation that was before, was transformed and became the cover for the scratched truth of myself. This kind of time my conscience had dreamed to live.
