the mountain
35mm slide from the family archive. Colors altered by the passage of time and humidity. People digitally erased and then replaced by analog feedback glitch.
My maternal grandparents, on the brink of a life adventure, after a past that brought them to Argentina, fleeing the concentration camps of World War II. Naive, with their whole future ahead, and their past annihilated amid a clash of totalitarian paradigms.
On one side, my grandmother, whom I never met in person. On the other, my grandfather, whom I did meet, yet it was as if I hadn’t. Silence on one side, the slam of a door on the other.
37,750 km traveled without the chance to choose, just mere teenagers.
This is a tribute to them and a note of gratitude. Also a reminder that roots are feminine, and that the important thing is never to forget them.
