It took me two years to return after Maria, a hurricane that destroyed my homeland. From afar I watched the desolation, a whole island destroyed, thousands without shelter, many more dead than reported. No news for weeks of loved ones, lost houses and landmarks from childhood, barren landscape where lush green used to be. And I watched with my heart in my hand. From afar. As time passed and the island struggled to recover I struggled with so many feelings. Anger at the treatment the colonial government gave the island, the denial of the death toll, the hiding of necessary supplies, the corruption with the aid. Grief at all lost,and fear. Afraid of a return to a land that I thought might be so changed I wasn’t sure I was part of its collective narrative anymore. So I created to hold on, to scream, to translate my anguish of being far in to objects that were my hands reaching out across the water to touch my island, my family and my friends. And as I created everything changed. An island finally
awoken and screaming arose from the chaos. Chaos and struggle from years of corruption and colonialism, of climate change and economic depression. And as the streets of my city flooded with people dancing, drumming and yelling loudly their demands I created from afar, to continue being a part, to yell with them, to be heard with them. I began this work in the summer of 2019 on one hand to
share what my island had been and is going through but also to reach my hands out and be a part of the changing landscapes of a place I still consider home.
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