The Tree's Knot Comes Untied

The Tree's Knot Comes Untied proposes a journey into the interior of family memory. The figure of the tree works as a symbol of lineage: its trunk holds traces, experiences and silences that, like its rings, accumulated over time.
At the center of the composition, the knot becomes a nucleus of memory. The blues, turquoises and greens concentrate the gaze there and contrast with the line drawing that runs across the rest of the tree. That small universe of color seems to preserve something alive within it: a story that remained contained and that is beginning to reveal itself.
The concentric circles surrounding the nucleus evoke the rings of time and the different generations. Through them, the girl symbolically descends toward the roots of her own story. It is not a matter of returning to the past in order to remain there, but of passing through it, recognizing what was silenced and understanding how much of those experiences continues to inhabit the present.
The irregular shapes running across the trunk suggest fragments of memories, bonds, losses, secrets and inherited emotions. The tree thus appears as a great family body that has kept within itself whatever each generation left marked upon it.
But the knot begins to come untied. What is hidden finds a way out; the silences acquire a voice and what remained imprisoned can be looked at from another awareness. To untie does not mean to erase the story, but to understand it so as to stop being trapped in it.
The work thus turns the tree into a metaphor of transformation: descending to the heart of memory in order to recognize the roots, release the secrets and allow a new story to begin.

The Tree's Knot Comes Untied

The heart of the tree
Your hair flies in the wind,
captivated in curling thoughts.
Girl who looks up high…
only the cobalt hour guides you.
You must be discreet,
you want to dispel
what troubles no one else.
You and your questions
inhabit that place, your place.
In the furrowed brow of the bark,
you labyrinth
each ring of time.
A half-open door
stops you…
but also invites you in.
The shiver is a wrapping
that presses on your chest
and the trembling in your body
carries omens
that must now come to pass.
Mysteriously…
answers emerge
from its roots...your roots.

That venom
had poisoned the sap
of the family tree,
and hatred
has weighed too heavily.
The blaze turned to ashes
the grudges, lies and betrayals.
The burden of sins
no longer condemns...
it will no longer besmirch
the generations to come.