A plastic bag is the icon of our 50 years of disposable culture. It is fragile and ethereal, but at the same time, resistant and durable. I like to work with it because of its meaning and apparent insignificance. I convert it into a portable object to remind me of the nonsense, the comfort and immediacy of our societies and my own life.
This year I began making bugs. I draw them first and when I observed carefully I realized were more similar to a kind of bacteria. And I felt identified with them, I was captivated by their colors and the shapes and the differences of the textures. They only fulfill a specific function, express my current state. I take advantage of duality of feelings they provoke: always on the edge of the ugly but sometimes surprising and I find them beautiful. They are alive and they are inside me. They accompany me and just as breathing is an unconscious action, I don't perceive them either, I only see them when something is not working properly or when I concentrate too much. With respect to the materials, they are waste, they are worthless, and I chose them antagonistic, contradictory, and of different origins, but they ended up merging into a new story, and now they are part of my life.