Image 1 [two clocks]:
untitled (we are synchronized now and forever), 2022
Two identical black framed clocks, glitter, cempasúchil, lavender, cinnamon, double A batteries
Image 2 [body]:
Silueta de escarcha, 2022
glitter, cempasúchil, lavender, cinnamon, candles
I think a lot about monumentality. Queer history, for me, doesn’t feel right as a monument. Monuments, historically, have been sites of conquests, injustices, and the display of said “triumphs”. In my life, Queerness and the learning of that history has been more like a spiritual practice: trying to talk to ghosts, learning from leaders of the community, and praying that enlightenment will come. There is a sense of devotion and peace in the way we practice Queerness. Monuments crumble. Names are forgotten. Rituals, however, are passed down. Even if parts disappear, some fragment of it always remains. That’s why Queerness has existed the way it has.
There are no Queer monuments. They can be destroyed too easily. Queer is practiced. Queer is preached. Queer is because Queer will.
In Talismanes, I explore ephemeral practices left behind by my Queer ancestors. I treat their practices like spells and perform them in order to continue to pass down their memory.
untitled (we are synchronized now and forever)
In a letter that Félix González-Torres wrote to Ross Laycock before creating Untitled (Perfect Lovers), Félix talks about the importance of time in their relationship. He starts the letter with “Don’t be afraid of the clocks, they are our time…” and finishes with “We are synchronized, now and forever.” Untitled (Perfect Lovers) is famously meant to go out of sync. In this iteration, I packed in glitter underneath the second-hand, preventing it from ticking forward, making the clocks stay in sync, now and forever.
