Exhibición internacional de arte acción.
Sala veinte22, Guadalajara, México.
September 22nd, 2013.
He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not ... What is love if not a construction of mixed hope and uncertainty?
For four hours I deflored chrysanthemums while counting their petals and following the Fibonacci series -0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89 ... - every time I counted one of the numbers of the series I administered to myself a double dose of Clonazepam (a drug that affects the central nervous system causing drowsiness and deterioration of cognitive functions) until I ended up numb and, eventually, unconscious. Defoliating a flower is a gesture of waiting for love. In “Chrysanthemum” the waiting is also to the fading of the force and the numbness of the body, which leads to a state of total vulnerability.
As in the classic tales of princesses and instantaneous romances, since we where girls we have been implanted the idea that it is our mission to find a man who will keep us safe and make us complete. The search for romantic love then becomes the expectation of the uncontrollable, and the constant memory of an absence.
In the construction of the dream of love we are taught to be "perfect", seeking to constantly accomplish absurd beauty standards to find “Love". Great expectations are built around the concept: a safe space, economic stability, a happy family & eternal love.
I believe that the implanted desire for the idealized romantic relationship (that is almost impossible to achieve and shortsighted) & the belief that without the other we will always be incomplete, makes us weaker and vulnerable.