Geopolitical Clash between cultures, The persistence of the "Eñapa" my way of looking
I was born on December 1, 1989, I am from Aragua, I studied at the Rafael Monasterios School of Arts, where I graduated as a graphic technician.
Some time ago, the person who introduced me to the world of the arts and who showed me ... the early morning streets of my city, their painters and galleries, missing a few hours to receive the new year 2008, drowned in a Of its beaches.
His mother sold balloons at the food fair between a large obelisk and a casino,
A year later came to Cuba, through the project of the international chair of plastic arts and music sponsored by Danny Rivera and Pablo Marcano, both Puerto Ricans.
I discovered here, that I am Venezuelan, because of the linguistic tattoo that has left its history in my speech, because of the dizziness caused by the strings of an old "Cuatro" that I inherited from my grandfather and by the silhouette of my great-grandfather that I remember losing itself between The fog of Trujillo early at 5 amin his way to milk the cows.
Afew years after my stay in Cuba I returned to Maracay in December, two friends from the school had died because of a dispute with an armed man,
Crime is not a secret in my country.
Bracho's mom was no longer selling balloons near the obelisk.
Instead, a native woman from some aboriginal group was sitting with her breasts uncovered asking for money, at the fountain under the obelisk, her two sons were playing with their water splashing, after the change of light at the traffic light the bus moved away and I never saw her again.
That figure so decontextualized, so far from its original environment, reminded me of myself from my most primitive stay of man, in turn so dependent on this technological mirage, so communicated without communicating, how we struggle to insert ourselves in these supposed new forms To understand the course of life itself, questioning the absurdity of existence.
The human being is just a blink of everything he has seen and yet, such a gap exists between people like me from this side of the bus, and they who resist from the earth and who are devoured daily by a major monster.
In the evolution of man, the development of fangs in the human skull exists as an anthropomorphic test.
Millions of years ago, this new form of evolution to which English anthropologists called Australopitecus, fought and exterminated their cousin Pharantropus who fed on plants and fruits, leading to extinction on the African continent.
Today, centuries later, in a different scenario man fights man under the banner of intelligence and progress, once again dominant cultures wanting to impose despot on some others less prosperous, wanting to implant ideas and discourses that are foreign to our own forms of Understand development.
It is for this reason, that after investigating, traveling and knowing,
After savoring the pain that sowed the bad fortune, the rage, the loss, the confusion, the stories that move me daily,
After falling in love with so many places in Venezuela,
After my eyes were impregnated with the sky of the great savannah,
Of the Tepuyes, the Roraima, of the Apurean plain,
Fishing with my brother on the Arauca River,
From the top of the snowy Bolivar peak, climbing the mountains of Henrry Pittier and Simon Machado in the valleys of Aragua
I give my life without hesitation, not a second to my country
For this feeling that he does not understand flags, governments, parties or lodges, fierce, indomitable, expostulating
as the Venezuela of the Indian Guaicaipuro, who faced the Spanish settler
His landscapes that have remained intact to the greed of the white man,
To its aboriginal groups that face the growing phenomenon of globalization
And who are under constant threat of disappearance,
To the hands of my father sowing the corn
To those of my grandmother grinding it to cook arepas "pilaas" on the wood,
My aunts collecting coffee beans
To the part of my people that ignores that development is a state of mental consciousness.
For the eñapa, (Panare Indians)
Word that can be translated by "The-ones-who-had-allways-been"
To fight for an evolution in which man respects man,
And in which, based on the intelligence that we have developed for centuries, we can look back embracing the sovereignty of the nations and all their ethnic groups that still resist to protect and preserve their traditions and their history.
I will let you know with some of my paintings about this subject:
