emily’s Reviews > Piñen > Status Update

‘—to shake off the disease of forgetting, to offer ourselves up as a sacrifice to memory—but there were children who bled more than others. You all know, you can see it in the way their letters weave together, in how their eyes—Fury is more noticeable than fear—just like those flowers—weeds. It’s as if we were all part of the same hedge, but with different roots. The weave of the stories those bodies unfold—history—’

‘The word piñen—from Mapudungun : dust—grime stuck to the skin. The only migrants who weren’t afraid—come live in this—place—as miserable as—ones they’d fled. It was strange how—a kind of communal minga took shape—Here, no time was wasted in profiting off the new renters. Every apartment—partitioned—at least 10 rooms—& they couldn’t complain—language was both a barrier & an ally—In any case, as far as the coke goes—’

‘—its name is Mapocho—To understand—its song, its language, its movement—perhaps we can translate tomorrow—Writing—to recover language, to revive community knowledge—continuity and exile. I carry the river’s voice inside me. My work is a translation of these experiences—of language, silence—diaspora—Perhaps we were just doing the same thing as our ancestors—A fabric of pulses—dormant energies—prayers, and offerings.’