Lost and Sound
Mixed media diorama commissioned by Meow Wolf. Installed permanently at Radio Tave, MW, Houston (2024).
Lost and Sound invites the viewer to explore a rainforest where mythical creatures from Colombian folklore and indigenous beliefs inhabit. In this place they will find some objects and animals that are disappearing from our world. The objects (a typewriter, a telephone or an old fat tv) have been petrified and some of the (endangered or extinct) animals live there peacefully. Humans are seen bellow some vines, and some of them are struggling to climb. An ax on a petrified trunk is seen close to them as well as an animal’s head on a stake standing as a trophy. You can hear different sounds: the roar of a jaguar, insects, a stream of water, and owl, an old internet router, howls, distant screams, a typewriter, the ring of a telephone and so on.

This work questions the viewer about the human roll in the decadence of our natural world vs. the creatures from our myths and legends who are seen as monsters who chaise and kill humans to avenge mother nature. Who is the real monster? who has been lost? and who is safe and sound in this place? I want to highlight this beautiful creatures that have been part of the oral traditions from my home country, the importance of keeping folklore alive as well as our duty to protect the environment.

Lost and Sound (2024)

Mixed media diorama. Acrylics over wood, mixed media clay, felting and tufting among other.

56.25” x 39” x 22.25”

Pre-Columbian Unlooted Bat or Vampire for the New World

Temporary Sculpture commissioned by the Museum of Fine Arts Houston for the fall festival at The Lillie and Hugh Roy Cullen Sculpture Garden (2022).

The sculpture I created is an icon for the unresolved issues brought by colonization. The Mexican free-tailed bat is one of the most common bats in North America, and it lived here long before the Southern states became U.S. territory—just as Mexicans were also here long before. The wings are covered in patterns inspired by monarch butterflies, which migrate from Mexico to the U.S. every year. The nose, fangs, Pre-Columbian aesthetics, and ornaments were inspired by the vampire bat (Desmodus rotundus), which ranges from northern Mexico to southern Brazil. This bat appears in the myths of many Indigenous peoples and Latin American folktales: represented by the Tayrona of Colombia as an anomalous creature embodied by the shaman, by Camazotz in Mesoamerica, and in modern times as the legendary Chupacabras.

Immigrants are often depicted as “vampires,” accused of draining society, yet bats actually play vital roles in the environment. They are the only pollinators of certain cacti and also help control pests. Pre-Hispanic myths and shamanic figures dressed as bats (Hombres Murciélago) even inspired later creations like Dracula and pre-date Batman. To adapt and be accepted, many immigrants suppress their native languages and attempt to pass as locals. This is why my bat, when viewed from behind, resembles a flower—able to merge with vegetation as a form of protection. The constant search for home by displaced people, immigrants, and refugees is symbolized in its eyes: though bats are blind, this one has houses for eyes, representing the blind search for shelter, guided only by the instinct to survive.

The name of my creature, Pre-Columbian Unlooted Bat or Vampire for the New World, questions the provenance of pre-colonial art housed in “First World” museum collections. It is important to ask who the rightful owners of these First Nations artifacts are and to seek ways to amend past injustices and heal old wounds.

Special thanks to Ann Sandberg, who welded the structure and supported me throughout the process, and to Eric Granquist, who generously shared his expertise in weatherproofing materials. This amazing creature would not have been possible without them.