Ya no cantan los vencejos (Swifts No Longer Sing) is a project that deals with returning home, family, the passage of time and oblivion. It is a re-interpretation of the landscape that accompanied my maternal family for much of their lives. In this work I return to the land of my grandparents and, through the figure of him, Mariano, I explore a territory that I have not visited for years: La Mancha.

            This one appears rarefied, like a feverish dream with remnants of the family that once was founded on it. My grandfather's archive, always intervened with green arrows to mark who is important and notes to my grandmother Pili, serves as a skeleton from which segmented images belonging to another era hang, which present an extensive and singular landscape.

            A landscape embellished with broken mills, blue-and-white walls, solitary cemeteries that arise from cereal fields and floral offerings punished by a sun that does not stop. Bodies on the road soak the crimson earth of the province of Ciudad Real, a territory with which I make peace and in which I recognize the past of the other, not mine.