Tunel del Tiempo

A dense core of earthy reds, frayed fibers, and vermilion pulses within an almost absolute black field. The material behaves here like an archaeological stratum or an uncovered reliquary, where the center is not a transparent vanishing point but a dark cavity, a scraped and rusty surface that pulls the gaze into an enclosed hollow.

The internal structure is sustained through diagonal tensions and tactile contrasts. Two pale, fractured strips cross behind the main rectangle, disrupting the geometric order and hinting at earlier layers of a dismantled ground. Over this arid backdrop, a white stroke meanders in a continuous calligraphic gesture, an elastic loop that extends into a thread of reddish pigment until it grazes the lower boundary. In the lower right corner, the line turns into an object: an actual physical cord emerges from the pictorial plane to drop toward a concentric button or medallion, anchoring the composition to the weight of tangible everyday things.

In the gloom of the black background, near the upper left quadrant, the linear outline of a solitary human figure emerges faintly, like a spectral engraving witnessing the scene without taking part. Toward the edge, a vertical band of bright red cuts the upper left border, establishing a sharp boundary that counterbalances the floating mass.

The title proposes a temporal reading that the medium corroborates in every scar. Time is not rendered as an abstract, continuous progression, but as an accumulation of strata, seams, textile remnants, and cords bridging isolated fragments, building a passage that seems to move toward memory rather than the future.