Luna Roja

Luna Roja

Luna Roja es un himno hacia la mujer y a nuestra raza como hembras: un tributo al origen, al retorno hacia vientre de la madre, un desplazamiento hacia la raíz, hacia la sangre que nos recorre, hacia nuestras emociones y nuestras guerras. Luna Roja explora herencia de lo femenino, el vínculo inquebrantable con su propia naturaleza, sus polaridades lunares, su ánima, su virgen y su madre, su animal. ¿Qué significa tener la capacidad de crear una vida todos los meses? La sangre que nos habita cada mes, ¿es una muerte? Más que lecturas concretas, las imágenes buscan generar resonancias, privilegiando lo intuitivo de lo que nos hace mujer.

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Luna Roja is a hymn to the woman and our race as females: a tribute to the origin, to the return to the mother’s womb, a displacement towards the root, towards the blood that runs us, towards our emotions and our wars. Luna Roja explores the inheritance of the feminine, the unbreakable bond with its own nature, its lunar polarities, its soul, its virgin and its mother, her animal. What does it mean to have the ability to create a life every month? Is the blood that inhabits us every month a death? More than concrete readings, the images seek to generate resonances, privileging the intuitive of what makes us woman.

The hawk wing alludes to the potential of our female empowerment and flight, the raw energy of what exists and belongs to us. The jaguar manifests the power executed, the power rooted in our corporeity and the total revaluation of matter, of the corporeal as sacred. As females, as a female wolf who observes, smells, breaths, bleeds and gives birth. We are dichotomy, holding unbeatable power from ancestral purpose, and, at the same time, an immeasurable fragility. A dissection on a female body, a path through a valley of the Andes; who asks the mountain (sacred for many still existent cultures) whether or not to make a road? In the same way, the woman is examined, it has been invaded and imposed, it is reminded that it does not have to be valued as an Apu (sacred mountain), nor is she asked what to do with her body, whether she marries or not, if she has the same rights as a male. One single ovum every month; the ability to fertilize it, the potential to be a mother every month. A war cannon, which discharges, denounces, expels or invades. Menstrual blood or the outcome of a fertilized ovule, the inner and hidden esthetics of women, their rocks, caves and secrets; in that darkness is where life is generated, like a seed under the earth, that roots, enunciates and suddenly, emerges. The ghostly hawk, with those white eyes like the cascade of wise old age, as an ancestral and a not forgotten lineage of a story that has never stopped and has been kept alive. The magic of the moon, small and subtle, yet powerful, wh­­o remains fluctuating, without following a sequence as the male sun. This is a tribute to the heart, to the intuitive, to the magic and mystery that we embolden.