Emilio Zamudio

 

The whole area was impressive to me since the day we visited for the first time: the wasteland, the berries, the twin paths along the sides of the river, the sea, the bridge. I returned to this place several times and discovered that there was a lot more to it.

 

I noticed the constant flow of berry-pickers, fishermen, picnickers, people walking dogs, joggers, etc. I “discovered” a small pond visible only from the shore. I was pleased to find that there is a narrow pebbled beach when the tide is low.

I walked along the shore, picked some berries, tried (and failed) to find the source of the river.

I considered how the water of the river flows into the sea, how the tides slowly cover and expose the line of pebbles, touching the first line of plants and maybe sometimes mixing with the water of the small pond.

I considered how the wind moved towards the shore causing dead leaves to sail upstream and live leaves to swing in their branches.

I considered how a huge and fenced construction site prevented me to follow the river into the city.

 

I felt the sound of the sea splashing gently against the beach, the cold of the wind, the strange emotions of looking at the shore on the opposite side of the river.

I took a fallen young tree and tested the depth of the river and the sea.

Then, I decided to stop thinking and start making something. I wanted it to make a mark that captured the feeling of being there.

I wanted it to be light and fragile, I wanted it to be moved by the wind and the water and to be split by the river and to be not entirely on the sea but not entirely on the shore.

I didn't want to bring into the place anything new.

I used a cord made from nettle fibers to tie the materials together. I think I will be using it often in my future works.

I don't know for how long my sculptures stood standing. By the next day they were down. That was O.K.