During a trip to the Atacama Desert in 1989, on the outskirts of the town of San Pedro, I made the gesture of cutting my hair, which was of considerable length. I left a material trace of this action in the place, as if an animal had passed by and left its hair on some branches, or as a quote from pre-Columbian offerings, or perhaps as an autobiographical residue that was added to that immense landscape, as a manifesto of a ephemeral singularity in the face of its immensity.
Capturing memory is possible in our DNA, which transmits it between the bodies of a blood line. This work unites a female genealogy in three natural pieces intervened with the color silver and a video projection. My own hair and that of my daughter are hung from a branch from the family garden, painted the color of my mother's, her grandmother's, hair. The ancestral memory of the feminine is also represented in the tide that serves as a background and screen for the shadow of these intertwined objects, the seawater and its currents, swaying the hues of the coasts, like hair or plants. The closeness between the morphology of the hair and the algae leads us to think that biology repeats patterns, giving a feeling of unity, relationship and connection between the parts of the installation.