Filmworks

Like two featherless birds, we lived wingless, in separate cages, in the transience of time; two wanderers, drawn to each other before being, at last, erased.

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On that long-anticipated stretch of lazy, meandering days that linger, no manacles of responsibility, rife with limitless possibility... let the chase begin.

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Time is a predator that stalks us all our lives.

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Preservation of an opaque memory of something beyond that is beyond what I see, what I am able to touch; a beyond concerning which I know, that this is precisely what I want to appropriate.

Coiled around her neck like a snake is the historical product of human selfishness coupled with the unshakable reluctance to relinquish one's grip on the fleeting smoke of earthbound fame. Fame, in this sense, is nothing more than the ability to say "Look at what I have"; there is no actual fame, just the pleasure derived from showing off material objects. As a result, she would much rather cling tightly onto countless un- or never-used objects (even those given to her by others) than to give or throw them away.


—Excerpt from The Ashes of My Mother, written by the Artist.

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Just as I attempt to recover the memory of a dream, it melts between my fingers, leaving me with an opaque, irritating impression of something complete but lacking pertinent elements.


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The earth overwhelms me. I can no longer look, not even for a moment, up at it with peaceful, unfathomable and, unbearable eyes. How can I? The only recourse is to contemplate, retrospectively, old disasters while forgoing any new hopes.

The time concerned here is neither finite nor infinite; potentiality merely causes the dimension of the future to appear. This lake is merely a lake, devoid of the possibility of being a lake indefinitely. Infinite time does not yet exist.


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Instagram: https://instagram.com/nelson.photo.art​
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In discussions of race relations in the U.S.—discussions that follow the unjustified murder of Black people in the country at the hands of police—the tendency of so-called experts and pundits is always to wax poetic about the anger, rage, and turmoil that occurs as a result of those police officials dodging indictment and punishment. This palavering never focuses on the frustration and sorrow of grieving families not getting justice for their loved ones, and it is most definitely never focused on what lead up to the turmoil that then cripples the cities where these atrocities occur. This film is a contemplation of that phenomenon.

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Troubled water remains water; it preserves the fluidity and the essential characteristics of water; but its translucency is "troubled" by an inapprehensible presence which makes one with it, which is everywhere and nowhere.

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