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Sunday, August 09, 2015

A los Bosques Me Interno Yo




En los Bosques Me Interno Yo, 2014
Cochineal, blood, oil, acrylic and clear polymer on canvas

24”x24”

En los Bosques Me Interno Yo is a work deeply rooted in the exploration of inherited pain, a theme that has long resonated with me as an autistic artist. The piece takes its title from the Peruvian chicha song by Los Destellos, a song that carries with it the echoes of my parents' immigrant experience and the cultural heritage they passed down to me. The lyrics, which speak to the pain of solitude, the scars left by love, and the haunting persistence of memory, serve as both an inspiration and a framework for this piece.

In creating this work, I was particularly focused on the concept of inherited pain—emotional wounds passed down through generations, which I feel deeply despite never having fully experienced love myself. As someone who is autistic, my understanding of love is not drawn from personal experience or limerence, but rather from a more abstract, almost inherited knowledge of its complexities and the pain it can cause. This understanding informs the ambiguity of the figures in the painting, who are caught in a dreamlike landscape of roses, each bloom representing both the beauty and the thorns of love and melancholic memory.

The materials I chose—oil paint, cochineal, and my own blood—are significant to this exploration. The cochineal connects the work to my Andean heritage, while the blood introduces a deeply personal, corporeal element, reflecting the visceral nature of the pain and emotion that I seek to convey. The use of these materials also allows me to bridge the gap between my personal narrative and the broader cultural discourse on identity, memory, and the immigrant experience.

Through "En los Bosques Me Interno Yo," I aim to explore the ways in which pain and love are understood, remembered, and inherited across generations, particularly within the context of cultural identity. This piece is not only a reflection of my personal experiences and inherited memories but also a broader commentary on how our identities are shaped by the landscapes—both emotional and cultural—that we inherit.

Athena Quispe

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Monday, June 09, 2014

Pensamientos

 Yo si me preguntó 

En que pensara las gotas de lluvia 

Al caer y sentir el vacío

Entre las alturas 

Y el piso


Aveces es de nieve 

En que pensara al esconder las rosas

Al esconder las calles y las luces,

Al esconder las voces.


Aunque el centro esté tranquilo,

Sansón da vueltas 

Conmemorando su cabello, 

Apretándo en volutas.


La humedez en que pensará,

Al hacer que los gusanos salgen

Exponiéndose en el suelo

Como cena del viajante 


En que pensará las nubes del cielo

Al transformarse a conejo a cazador, de flor a sonrisa,

O corazón deformado.


En que pensará el fuego,

Al darme agua caliente de noche,

Y té caliente de día. 


Al fin estoy loca,

Y se que ni nadie ni yo,

Piensa en nada. 

Thursday, January 02, 2014

Wiphala; Rainbow in Hell

 


Cochinilla, sangre humana, óleo
Wiphala: Rainbow in Hell

This mixed-media work, combining oil paint, blood, and cochineal, serves as a complex meditation on the intersections of identity, cultural heritage, and the legacies of colonialism. The title references the Wiphala, the multicolored flag representing the Andean people of South America, where each hue holds distinct symbolic meanings tied to cosmology and community.

Central to this piece is the exploration of gender fluidity within pre-colonial Andean societies, contrasted against the rigid binaries imposed through colonial rule. The floating figure, characterized by its ambiguous gender—long hair juxtaposed with a visible phallus—echoes the pre-colonial reverence for dualities and the sacredness of non-binary identities. This deliberate ambiguity challenges the Eurocentric gender norms that were enforced during and after colonization, underscoring the resilience and persistence of Indigenous identities.

The materiality of the work itself is laden with cultural and historical significance. The incorporation of my blood alongside traditional cochineal pigment establishes a visceral connection to both personal and communal histories. Cochineal, historically harvested by Indigenous peoples and later exploited during colonial times, becomes a symbol of both cultural richness and the violence of exploitation. By integrating these elements, the work not only honors my Andean heritage but also critiques the ongoing impacts of colonial extraction and commodification.

Wiphala: Rainbow in Hell occupies a space between historical reflection and contemporary critique, using surreal imagery and layered symbolism to address the enduring consequences of colonialism on Indigenous identities. The work invites critical engagement with the ways in which cultural symbols are reclaimed, reinterpreted, and resisted in the face of ongoing historical trauma. Through this piece, I aim to contribute to a broader discourse on post-colonial theory, Indigenous resilience, and the complexities of cultural memory.

Athena Quispe 


Monday, November 11, 2013

suicidarse


 cochinilla+óleo+acrílico= </3

selk'nam
se me hace dificil seguir viviendo 

Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning & Black Study

 



You can read the rest on JStor if you have a library card! 

http://eipcp.net/transversal/0608/mezzadraneilson/en


























Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Minimal Man - To Hold You

 
Nightmares end
Dreams began
Far at first
I did my best to swim to you
Your loving eyes
You say
Sail to me, sail to me, 
Waiting to hold you
Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Did I dream you dream about me?
You dream
Touch me tonight
Come back
Tomorrow
Hold my heart
Hold my heart
Here I am
Here I am
Waiting to hold you
To hold you
To hold you
To hold you
To touch you

(Minimal Man) Patrick Miller, Jan 2, 1952- Dec 14, 2003.



Saturday, December 31, 2011

Yo y el Temblor

 La canción de esa noche

Suena en mi cabeza

Pero no puedo recordar la letra

Letra quechua, quechua

Ni la melodia,

Solo los temblores y mi risa,

Y mi voz cantándote,

Y tus ojos escuchándome cantar

en quechua, quechua.