...my grandfather came from Cuba in an ornately carved pirate ship. Beneath the tattered sails, mermaids trailed crying out " why leave this sugar cane paradise?". My grandmother was the town debutante and a prodigy piano player. She wore elaborate dresses that looked like expensive pastries before he stole her away. He would often pull out the weathered clippings at this point, which had somehow made their way through the mail after The Revolution...
The oral tradition of storytelling is an important way for my family to keep alive the memory of the home they had to leave. I mark my life through my art, keeping to what has been passed down to me.