Estudio sobre triángulo
Daniela Libertad . 2016
I have been thinking about angles, about the breaks of a line, the twisting of an ankle, of tripping, about any alteration of a trajectory.
What a joy to move from a handshake to a hug. Fortunate events have to happen for this inertia to appear. What a moment of elation to exchange that first hug with someone you encounter for the second time.
I have seen a wax line making itself fit into a corner. It pulls from its inner strength, its extremities stick to the walls. What arises is the longest, most narrow trapeze I have ever seen.
Maybe a straight line was once an angle that closed in on itself.
How do you allow a single line to take a rest from the form of which it occupies? How can you witness the moment in which it decides its own direction?
While I believe I am moving forward, all I am really doing is pushing the triangle backwards. It becomes more complex when the things that integrate it begin to break off.
Maybe a straight line was once an angle that opened itself.
How long does it take to get out of the triangle?
How long does it take to arrive at the line?