An Infinite Abyss
This three-channel video expands on the sculpture Abyss, which uses water and reflection to produce an endless descent. The video does the same with live video feedback and time lag, distorting space and time into an abyss that loops without end.
A figure falls but never lands. The frame itself becomes the abyss. The body multiplies and blurs into projected light until it is unclear where the body ends and the space begins. It is never fully present and never fully gone.
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Abyss
Water runs down a sheet of plexiglass into an infinity mirror, and a pump returns it to the top. The circuit is closed. Nothing is added and nothing leaves.
The mirror turns a shallow container into a depth with no visible end. Édouard Glissant names opacity as a right, the right not to be made transparent to others. The sculpture builds that opacity out of the clearest materials available.
This Will Break
The installation was made in the spring of 2025, in response to the growing risk faced by people whose migration history, legal status, or political speech makes them a target.
Three sculptures built from shards of hand-cut float glass stand in the path of projected light. Words such as truth, bodies, rights, and justice travel across the wall and come apart where they meet the glass. A message is also present in the room at all times, washed out by a brighter beam. It becomes legible only when a body blocks the light.
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Glass is amorphous. It is a solid with no fixed structure. Under state power, the same is true of safety, identity, and belonging.
The work is organized around diffraction, the bending and interference of waves at an edge. Karen Barad treats diffraction as a method in which interference produces meaning. The installation makes that method political.
The message cannot be read from a position of compliance. It appears only through disruption, when a body enters the beam and interrupts it. Obedience keeps it concealed. The work makes disobedience the condition of witnessing, and it implicates the viewer in what becomes visible and what stays out of view.
In the Darkness
A naked body covers itself with sheer fabric, a material that hides nothing. The same fabric hangs in a dark room in three sheets, and the video is projected through all of them. Each layer catches the image and distorts it differently. The body multiplies and is whole on none of them.
The sound is an accumulation of whispers, none of them intelligible. Viewers walk between the sheets and into the projection, where their bodies overlap with the one on the fabric.
The body is fully exposed. It can be seen and entered.
Fragmentos
Dislocation, memory, and collective trauma, delivered as sensory overload. Saturated images, archival audio, and Spanish-language soundbites pile up faster than they can be sorted. The video does not reconstruct a past. It stays with the pieces, as diasporic memory does.
Translation is partial on purpose. The work speaks most directly to those who share its history, and it refuses to be universally understood.
