The House of Dreams & Flowers – II: Flowers

“The House of Dreams & Flowers – II: Flowers.”

Oil on unprimed paper.

9x12.

2024.

Where “Dreams” was more of a metaphysical idea of a room, “Flowers” is about an actual place.

Much like anybody that was part of the Venezuelan exodus, my first years abroad were incredibly difficult. Immigrating is not for the faint of heart and I certainly felt it’s pains.

I don’t tell this story often anymore but every time I get to tell it, it comes with a certain fantastical element with it.

Upon arrival to Nashville, after living in Mexico City for a year, I was terrified of this austere new american city. I was 22 but felt like I was 15. Too many new experiences, one after another, no footing to hold on to and no sound voice or advice to guide me.

It was a soft landing in Nashvile, still numb, but in a place that provided comfort. I lived with my cousin for almost a year. She owns a flower shop and the business resided in the first floor of a 100 year old house in East Nashville’s East End community, the address was: 123 S. 11th St.

I lived above a flower shop for almost a year. And, as with all the experiences I’ve had in life, I’m grateful for it. Coming down in the middle of the night to a house full of an assortment of plants, after a truckload had been delivered that day was always a fascinating experience, barely any room was left to move in what seemed like a jungle in a room.

I eventually moved out and met someone who’s made my life infinitely better, someone who’s shown me what intentional and purposeful living truly means and what it feels like.  The foothold and sound voice that I was seeking for guidance. Life is easier now.

However, In 2020, just when the pandemic was about to hit, a tornado ripped through the city of Nashville, the 100 year old house in which I lived in with my family when I first got here got hit head on. Luckily everyone came out unscathed, but the damage was too much for the business to maintain operations in it. The whole neighborhood looked like a bomb had just gone  off.

Since then, I’ve always have had this image in my mind. An image of a house being seized by a gentle cyclone of petals and not of a house devastated by perilous winds.