Thousands of scenes, landscapes and maps eternalize dreamily where memory does not retain, where what is stone in us disappears. Nameless lands of volatile roots, of threads that yearn to form words in search of that underlying the realm of languages. The country of color emerges for oxygen evoking ancestral sounds. Balancing with the purity of the original and the harmony of the movement that attracts the future. We can feel again the immediacy of the experience, the fleeting and constant feeling of emptiness that reminds us that nothing is forever

I’m Mariano, I live and work on the outskirts of Santiago, Chile. I usually get ahead of the first rooster that crows in the window. The distance I travel to my workshop is the same as it takes a flock of ducks to fly over my head. A workshop made tall enough to receive my children and let the autumn light bathe everything. A little addicted to mate and sweet. Naturally the background music soaks up my surroundings. I also paint.”