A few days ago, an angel asked me which galaxy I was traveling to. This is my answer:

A galaxy very similar to the one below.

If you join me, I think you'll enjoy this trip. 😎🤗

_{Before starting the trip to So many worlds in this by Marina Nuñez, I want to announce that I will be absent from Hive for a few days. My body needs rest, and that is what I am going to do. So please don't be upset if you don't see me active for a while. Thank you.}

The exhibition I am presenting today is overwhelmingly aesthetic. So beautiful, in fact, that it can provoke suspicion that we are witnessing a mere aesthetic exercise devoid of content.

However, I am also someone who is capable of enjoying the aesthetic and the superficial. Both the ugly and the beautiful are capable of provoking intense reactions, even if they are as basic as attraction or repulsion.

Even spectacles considered models of superficiality, such as fireworks, are capable of provoking, time and again, my amazement at the combination of lights, sounds, and the smell of gunpowder that my senses take in.

Therefore, I decide to let myself be carried away by aesthetics, without prejudice, and then discover in this artist's work a profound reflection with which I also sympathize.

A story that, turned into images, sometimes static and sometimes in motion, undermines the image that humanity has of itself, the one found in textbooks:

The human species is the pinnacle of evolution.

We have to go back to the Renaissance to find that humanity that believes itself to be the center of the universe and that, observing the rest of Nature from its vantage point, set itself up as its lord and master.

Being at the pinnacle of evolution, it saw no problem in turning Nature into a victim of this hierarchy. A victim of unbridled greed.

Marina Nuñez's work questions this hierarchy with the weapon of beauty. A reflective beauty.

If anthropology is the study of humanity, it is not surprising that the venue for this exhibition is a Museum of Anthropology.

Upon entering the museum, we are greeted by an enormous image covering the entire surface of the entrance hall. It is a digital image of ceramics composed of 288 tiles.

The image, which could have been taken from a dream, depicts a large female body on the surface of the Earth. I am a great supporter of the Gaia hypothesis (James Lovelock and Lynn Margulis).

The Earth, our home, is a living organism that regulates itself through a great symbiosis between living and mineral matter. Humanity is part of a network that co-evolves together; we are part of a network where everything is connected to everything else.

Viewed from above, this great work reveals the dissolution of the boundaries between the human and the non-human. A woman's body dissolves into multiple spheres representing other worlds, expanding to form new realities.

Another perspective would tell us that what we see is how the Earth, from its elements, forms a human body, a woman's body connected to Gaia.

A woman who, perhaps, on a round trip, emerges and dissolves into her surroundings, in a succession of permanent cycles.

Viewing the work more closely, with our feet on it, the symbiosis, the absence of boundaries between the living and the inert, between the human and the non-human, becomes more evident. So does the possibility of multiple realities.

In The Language of the Earth, the author seems to be talking about greed and its catastrophic results:

Where is the reason that justifies the intensive and unsustainable extraction of natural resources, such as minerals, oil, or gas, to satisfy an incomprehensible demand?

But she also talks about the possibilities of the new, starting with learning to listen to what the Earth is telling us.

The void may be the place where we find the answers.
Ale de la Puente

Until a few hours ago, I didn't know what to do with the little material I had from the exhibition "Turbulencias en el vacío" (“Turbulence in the Void”).

The exhibition went beyond what was on display with the screening of short films and performances that complemented the few works on display. However, due to lack of time, I was only able to enjoy what was on display.

While putting together this publication, I remembered Ale de la Puente's exhibition, and I found this little place for it.

If the exhibition “So many worlds in this” showed the invisible: a universe full of invisible connections that build new realities, Ale de la Puente reflects on other intangible and invisible things.

Within this study of the “void,” of the imperceptible, lies the work “Turbulencias del vacío” (Turbulence of the Void).

An immersive experience in which visitors perceive the effects of sound waves, textures, light, rhythms, and time inside a dark room.

The emotions generated by this contact with the invisible, the interpretation of the experience, were surely different for each visitor.

Enveloped in this dance of stimuli, the insight arose:

• what I do not see is/is me.