Ongoing - Santiago - Chile

Andrea Ocampo

Reading time: 2 minutes



Nobody Talks About Fire

About “Caer en Amor” by Nicolás Astorga
November 24, 2022 – December 30, 2022 at Galería NAC, Chile

Love, tattoos, history turnded words, plot, knot, stitch. Nothing in love is superficial. Love is the depth in every mark of desire or its oblivion, those painful cracks of horniness… that body trace that ends up imprinted on sheets, wearing out armchairs, breathing in the hollows of pillows or in the fingers that breathe through the sleeves of vests.

There is nothing light in the weight of nights, their scratches and the swearead words, in the still life that we are, as we unite from the humidity and its orifices.

Throwing oneself into the other and lodging in the wake of that crossing evaporates the vigor of the hands that weave spilled blood, like a fallen Christ under a lover’s lap. They are also curtains, they are flags: walls of light material, temporary divisions of affection, tattoos that love carries with it in a memory-assembly. Revolt between the ink, the knife, the flayed mark and the skin isolated between the cut and its flesh.

There remains the crust of warm blood, of name and surname, bruised knuckles, the days spun in meditation without waiting (there is no hero, no Odyssey). The disappearance of the loving fabric inflames the woven: threads fix its event. Of love and its figure, how many appearances, how many tastes.

A backdrop or a gypsy house, I ask: perhaps a home of travelers, nomads of language as they write with hunger, the letters and diaries of the past. Seminal words that stain the eye, plot poses, contours nailed to mismatches or diagonals.

Like seams, like those who read aloud: anxiety penetrates the fabric, infects bodies whose stain is the infamy of bitches; dishonor turns into a short-circulation weapon. The zeal, the rage, the anger, the threat to the center of the room connects handwritten badges to other people’s tattoos, scratches stigmata on their hands, necks and backs. Their sores color the cloth, next to the boiled aniline. Nobody talks about fire. Nor of the incandescent trees. They are barely traces of saliva or bites when uniting the fallen strands with love.

Caer en Amor,  Galería NAC

November 2022, Santiago de Chile.


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