Store
I’ve always been interested in the scenarios where love happens. Cities turned into forests full of bodies, dark spaces as a shelter for clandestinity and also as an effective filter of beauty; the body itself as a structure, a scaffold, a grandstand, a battle ground and/or a playground, both personal and collective. The body is in fact a place for others to live. Not only because others penetrate, touch, kiss and fill us –with memories, essences and excrescences–, but also because other bodies actually inhabit us. Viruses and bacterias. I think about them and I think about myself. I think about us and I think about them. I think about viruses and bacteria passing from one cavity to another and/or using objects, or air, to reach us and get inside us to meet other microorganisms with which they will make love or be aggressively attacked by our own defenses. I think about them and I think about the city and the bodies moving endlessly to eventually find themselves, sometimes without luck. I think about them and I think of fear, of what we call disease, which is nothing other than the dread of seeing another life overcome ours. I think about all this and I think about Antonio’ work and how he opens with his body, in his body, infinite spaces of communion: pollution: communication: love.
Text by Tonatiuh López