Marginalia consists of the monthly invitation to an artist, curator, or project to choose a series of images for the margins of our webpage in relation to their practice and interests of the moment. At the end of each month, the set of published images and a text that contextualizes them is revealed. Here is the selection of August 2020.
In April 2020, cloistered in my own apartment in Quito, Ecuador, I began this visual essay inspired by my then month-long experience living in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic. Being away from my immediate family, having lost my father to the virus, caring for my mourning mother—at a distance—and, at the same time, dealing with my growing Bordeaux anxiety and depression, it was too much. This Is Our Lost Dance was, and still is, the project that keeps me sane. Some people drink, some cry, some others engage in questionable sexual activities. I sit down to draw.
Five months later, I am still dancing through this so-called “new normal.” The ghosts of nostalgia still haunt me, and the Spotify list I made as a tribute to my father is still playing, especially during my seven-hour trips to Guayaquil—the port city where I was born and one of the first cities in Latin America in receiving the gift of the pandemic fury—to visit my family.
This small project continues, traveling through thick and thin, without fever. Without a last dance yet. But tomorrow, who knows? Art is another symptom… and God is a DJ.