Sangrante Imataca is this body of work. It is also the title of a poem written by my grandfather in 1997. Last year, before I started to create these works I asked my grandfather about his poem. He said:
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“Me inspiró escribir el poema la criminal devastación del ecosistema guayanes con la explotacion del oro utilizando metales tóxicos como el mercurio y destruyendo el bosque amazonico. Dejando la tierra arrasada sin vegetación.”

“I was inspired to write the poem about the criminal devastation of the guayanes ecosystem with the exploitation of gold using toxic metals such as mercury destroying the Amazon forest. Leaving the scorched earth without vegetation.”

 
In search of a new language to describe the existing social, humanitarian, political and environmental crisis plaguing my home country, Venezuela; and my personal and familial experience in the midst of all this, the following phrases extracted from my grandfather’s poem take on multiple sentidos (meanings, sentiments, directions, causes), urging consideration for the precarious state of our environment, shared history and future.
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Generoso corazón, herido
Suelo dorado
Tesoro prometido

Generous heart, wounded
Golden soil
Promised treasure

Destino eterno, mezquino
Como el aire que respiro

Eternal destiny, petty
Like the air I breathe

 
Contrasted through these remixed images are text and sounds of the everyday, here and there, now and then, field recordings from my last trip home, conversations with family, friends and collaborators, autochthonous foods and plants, popular music and regional folklore.

 Sangrante Imataca transcends time and context, como el agua que bebemos, como la luz que nos alumbra, y como el aire que respiramos (like the water that we drink, like the light that shines on us and like the air we breathe).