Ik wist niet dat ik een onkruid was - art exhibition

Join me on the opening night at 18 pm to see the work and enjoy a cup of bogotanian soup: Ajiaco. 

It started as a soup de native Colombians would do with potato, corn, avocado and guascas. When the Spanish came, they took the recipe back to Europe where they added chicken, cream, and capers. It travelled back to be known as a typical bogotanian plate. My Colombian identity, served on my Colombian table, around a Colombian family, is a result of travels and encounter between cultures. What I consider mine had to face the other to become itself. The guasca, our Colombian herb, that gives this soup its special taste, here is nothing more than an uncomfortable weed.  Her identity, her purpose, and her use, are defined by the social context she is in. Just like me.  The person I was back home is not seen the same way here, and just like the ajiaco, I needed the travel, I needed the mirror of the other, to make sense of myself. Identity is no longer a fixed concept.  Now, just like the guasca, weather I am a weed or a herb, I have decided grow between the cement.