Art at Maria-Lucia Castillo
The frozen body of José Mansilla-Miranda was slowly warming up on the shore of the Snake River when a dream of his daughter’s cry, “Dad, wake up! You’re dying,” seemed to have brought him back to consciousness.
The raft in which he had been paddling down cold waters of northern Canada flipped and Mansilla-Miranda was caught under until the drift allowed him to resurface.
Ferlánder Arguedas was eight years old when he began painting. At the time, it was simply his form of entertainment. His canvas was often a coffee leaf. Today, his canvas is often a duck feather.
Ferlánder, now 27, says that when his father saw him painting as a kid he would discourage him from spending time on what he regarded as a fruitless activity. He recalls his father telling him, “Ferlánder, go and clean that plantain plant because that plant is going to give you food in three months whereas that paint brush won’t.”
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