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As a little girl I had a little pink purse. I never went out without it, I always carried the important stuff around, toys, candies and treasures that I used to find on the street and that I was obsessed with for periods. Specially, I remember my collections of bottle caps, pogs and those little figures that were on the bread and that smelled like bubblegum. My purse was special and it uniquely held stuff that was equally special.    


Over time and with my acceptance in school, the little pink purse was substitute by a big backpack and its content had changed, it was no longer the valuable bottle caps and the candies that occupied the space, now it was books, colors and notebooks, however, I always found a way to maintain those little treasures with me and,  when I started to collect colored stones, my backpack was fill with them.

 It didn't take me long to discover that there is not a worse enemy than time for objects. The passing time allows objects to be forgotten, to rust, to rotten, to break, to get lost. Objects, I don’t know if it’s regrettable or fortunate, are not eternal and in some moment, all atoms that conform them, take another form and they integrate the world in another way, as we know “matter cannot be created or destroyed, only rearranged”. 

Little by little, thanks to the fact that I am distracted and a little disorganized, my backpack began to convert into a cemetery of objects and memories. At the bottom you could find vestiges of all that made me happy at some moment: a pair of letters of Yugi-Oh folded, wrappers of candies, bags in which my mother had wrapped my snak and unfinished drawings. The corps of my memories were located there, were lost there and probably, by now they are located in some dumpster, buried under millions of more memories.

It’s curious the ease that objects have to convert into trash. All that surrounds us it’s potentially trash, even though their lifespan  is not due yet. David Cruz shows us the beauty of those little objects, his paintings of candies and wrappings remind me at the bottom of that messy backpack, it reminds me of the little and ephemeral treasures that we have in our hands and that later on, we toss away.

Articulos Objetos_edited_edited.jpg
Articulos Objetos_edited_edited.jpg
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huevo diseño.png
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His art it’s casual and quotidian, colors and textures are familiarly pleasant, candies remind me of my infancy, but also of those years of university in which I put one in my mouth to not fall asleep during the hermeneutic class, the container of caguamita, maruchan and tuna, all those hours locked away in my foreign friend’s rooms. Life, sometimes, can be reduced in those little things and also, on occasions, can be felt equally ephemeral.

Artist: David Cruz Ig: @dvcxart