Most of this work is based on triggering memories of Cuba, where I lived my first ten years. The Hills of Caujery in Oriente, where I lived with my grandparents were isolated and the roads to get there were treacherous. The two approaches from Guantanamo depended on the weather; the one for the rainy season transversed through thread dirt roads along the edge of cliffs and the other, used during the dry season went through the foot of the mountains. I spent the first ten years of my life out of schools and outdoors playing at the dry garbage heap, placing bird traps with my grandfather and watching my grandmother in her sewing machine and cooking. With very little formal schooling and no TV, I learned to love making things with my hands. In these works, I am not interested in creating a descriptive cartography of the landscape, I am instead interested in suggesting

a feel of being there. 

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