texts
2018
What I want to tell you has to do with intimacy and what surrounds it. It's about secrets and the things we think about before going to sleep. It also says something about the appearances and disguises we use when we go out into the world. As if there were two realities: intimacy and what we show. Although both have to be attractive.
Attractively pink.
Pink is my medium for expression. It could be through a drawing, a pair of panties, or something I film on my phone.
But what I wonder is, is the pink real?
2020
When I grow up I want to be an artist
When the pandemic is over I want to be a performer.
When the day is over I want to have made art.
When I feel like it I want to be inspired
When I want to show myself I want you to be there
When I want to show myself I want to not be ashamed
When I want to tell you something, I want you to understand me.
When I die I want you to remember me
When I think of pink I think of you
2020
I have to take responsibility for something. Thank you for being with me during this year of virtuality and connection. I learned a lot through you. We exchanged words, photos, likes, and reactions. These are ways of expressing ourselves and connecting. I love using this space to debate, rethink our reality, question the place of art, and just drink a bit. Thank you, Instagram, for being free but not for making us dependent. I appreciate the opportunity to connect with strangers or pseudo-strangers. Although I feel like I already know you.
Give me a like if you felt part of it.
2021
I use public space to produce work. I appropriate the medium of Instagram and explore ways to generate experience/reflection online. Since 2017, I have been exhibiting works under the pseudonym @RositaChicle. I construct an identity of images and videos, designing my daily intimacy, proposing an approach to the everyday as a possible artistic experience. I expose my vulnerability online, asking for tools to develop ways of activating and interacting poetically. I am interested in discussing self-design, the self-advertising in which we are immersed. In this harsh intimacy, alternative operations of seeing emerge, of connecting with the person next to us and with technological devices. The cell phone merges with my body.
2021
I haven't slept well at night for a few days now. Thoughts torment me. I toss and turn. I look at my phone. I can watch Reels nonstop. That keeps me awake more, but even though I haven't looked at my phone, I can't sleep. Ideas come to me, but if I don't write them down, they'll pass me by. I think about what I have to do for tomorrow. About the work I've accumulated, about how much I've wasted time on Instagram. I wonder if it's too much to post things every week, to expose my bathroom and the clothes I wear. What will other people think of me, that I'm behind a screen all day? I think a lot about social media, about what I choose to show and what I filter. I feel embarrassed about what doesn't appear, those things that have nothing to do with my artistic statement, like when I go out to eat with my friends or the movie I'm watching with my boyfriend. I think so much that sometimes it makes me anxious. I also get nervous and embarrassed about putting myself out there, when I realize that no one will like what I post or that it will have very little reach. But then I get approval. That makes me reflect on other people's responses, which always seem to be positive. Does it make me grow/improve? Do I trust those who consume my content and their judgment when they like it? Where does the need to show off come from? Does it make artistic sense, or is it simply ego-feeding? Do I generate reflection? Does anyone stop to think about what I do and why I do it? Sometimes I wonder if the result is mere entertainment. What if I've become addicted to social media? What if that's what's causing me anxiety and keeping me awake?