You’ll never quite remember the exact words, what you’ll never forget is the heart shuttering sensation you felt. Exposed flesh and scalpel, the cold surgical light began to wrap the new born. Cool air and shivers, as Death herself made her way through the operating room. Full weight on a new being that had ceased to be. A second attempt at bringing life, once more a woom in vein. Life isn’t a gift, for it has a cost to her. A tear down her cheek seems to fulfill an unbreakable prophecy. And then, a baby’s cry fills the cold room.

Juan Echeverry

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I’ve discovered a refuge in the subtle, elusive nature of contemporary practices, where a story unfolds quietly, hidden beneath layers of ambiguity. My work speaks to emotions I’ve encountered on my personal journey, yet as I express them through art, I deliberately shroud them in mystery. The feelings are present, but their full meaning remains just out of reach, allowing the viewer to find their own narrative within the silence.