Transcultural displacement: A longing for a sense of home in a foreign environment.

Born in the small country of Guatemala, and raised throughout the United States, I often have to explain to my American peers where Guatemala is. Yet, I also don’t seem to belong to the Latin-American community in the U.S., because I don’t come from where the majority comes from. And even when traveling back to Guatemala, I don’t belong there either – my speech is slightly different, and I have to remind myself to use a Guatemalan accent; I don’t dress the same; my life experience is unlike theirs. Ever a foreigner, always neither here, nor there, I create art to build a home for myself; my art practice is my home.

In exploring transcultural displacement, my installations often touch on closely related questions of foreignness, the impermanence of memory, and concepts of home, all of which range from introspective inquiry to public dialogue.

To touch on foreignness, for example, In Rota tu Volubilis I purposely created a physical divide between two readers, so that even though they are viewing the piece together, they must do so from different perspectives. In contemplating concepts of home for Building a Childhood Home for all TCK, I am building a home for all third culture kids (TCK), including myself. In extending the concept of home to global warming, I use biodegradable materials to speak to this pervading concern. Questions of global warming also appear in Nostos.

The choice of materials for my installations is generated by my memories. A memory triggers the material, and the material leads the way. The material shows me how it behaves and reacts; it tells me what it wants to do. I also work with multiples and series; often finding that the material in one piece informs the other(s), thereby becoming a continuum body of work.

My work is also ephemeral; it is transient as my installations live for a finite set of time and eventually cease to exist, as humans do. With Bet Lehem, the use of toasted bread dictated that I work faster than usual, as the bread lost moisture with each day and gradually diminished. The bread became stale, broke, and eventually disappeared.

For my audience, I simply want them to experience the work; to engage; to let the installations make them see the world slightly differently. And if they still have time, to think about what it means to belong.