My Mom's Yard (El Patio de mi mamá), 2024,

Diptych, 22” x 30” each,

Ink and interference paint on acid free paper.

The climate is harsh in the West Texas of my upbringing, polar opposite to the tropics of my adopted home. My Mom keeps a big bowl outside her front door full of water for the squirrels, birds and the occasional passing dog. She no longer crosses her back yard; she is worried she will fall. I started and ended my last visit to see her by crossing the yard up and back and from side to side, like transects. There wasn’t much to look at: a battered wooden fence around packed sandy earth with grass taken over by small rugged desert plants. Stuck in the barbs and spines of the plants, an occasional white or grey feather, most likely from doves and pigeons, and one from perhaps a blue jay.
Installation photo by Rafael Salazar; detail photos by Sergio Ochoa.