Red, Orange, Yellow – Rothko
At first glance three distinct rectangles appear but as you look closer you begin to consider the saturated red that runs into muted yellow which bleeds into the light mandarin background. It ends on an orange with brown splotches randomly across the piece.
I know presume these are intentional but did they start as mistakes? Can mistakes lead to being the centerpiece in view?
Everyone is walking past.
Quickly viewing as I bask into the hundreds if not thousands of variation in the saturation. Three woman chat next to me and I hear a video playing in the background. I’m distracted by them. It’s welcomed.
The Crate
How do you begin to organize photos that you only connect to after the fact?
I sort through trying to piece together a timeline based on my age when I pause on polaroids of my grandmother as a child in Cuba. Stolen of course but in my stack nonetheless. She was 10. I hold the wrinkled and torn image and I am instantly pulled into two different timelines.
1942, San Nicolas and the early 2000s in North Jersey.
I’ve probably asked my abuela about this photo many times usually at night. She would braid my hair as her mother did for her. If we were to silkscreen an image of both of us together there would barely be a difference.
I am her copy.
The crate goes back on the shelf. Nobody in the next room to ask if they remember this one too.