March 21, 2019 - April 27, 2019

Romina Estecher | Donde habitan las rocas

My mother told me about a valley, a plain, a green pampa, at the same time a wooded meadow, perhaps I imagined The Sound of Music, Heidy’s meadows, Brueghel’s Paradise, Hieronymus’s Garden of Earthly Delights, and those associations to an inhospitable, unknown, utopian, idyllic, perfect place from that story. Without further ado, I could say at 7 years old, and now also why not. A Paradise. What is a paradise?

“The word paradise comes from the Greek παράδεισος, paradeisos (in Latin paradisus), used in the Septuagint to refer to the Garden of Eden. The Greek term in turn comes from the Persian paerdís, ‘enclosed’, which is a compound of paer-, ‘around’ (a cognate of the Greek peri-) and -dis, ‘create’, ‘make’. Sources as ancient as Xenophon in his Anabasis (4th century BC) allude to the famous Persian “paradise” garden. Thus, its original meaning refers to an extensive and well-arranged garden, which is presented as a beautiful and pleasant place, where in addition to trees and flowers, you can see caged or free animals.”

That is what Wikipedia says and it is not at all far from the construction of my paradise, who knows it? Who has been there? Who could deny the existence of mine, its nature and its form? What I’m talking about was mountain, valley golden, silver, fuchsia, turquoise, black, sometimes white. Without animals, without Adam and without Eve, and sometimes, sometimes it exists.

When paradise is present, spaces seem to open up in the middle, paths that invite you to enter. Where it can also be a jungle, valley or mountain. There where rocks of very varied shapes live. The gaze is directed to the right, to the left, to the south, to the north, it really does not matter at what distance to contemplate or where. Even in foggy weather, until the peaks are no longer visible, the rocks shine between them with an internal glow, they seem to breathe. They blend together like waves and in the distance they blend in with the reflections.

The immense cyclone now appears when the entire liquid mass is covered. Then the water, then the rain. I become ocean. Return.



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Praxis New York
10 am - 6 pm hrs.

USA+1 212 772 9478
newyork@praxis-art.com

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