In this installation, three generations meet in light, movement, and silence. The white masks represent not concealment, but revelation: they show how identity is formed across personal, familial, and cultural layers.
My grandmother, my mother, and I share a deep-rooted ancestry in the Caribbean, in waters that carry Dominican, Curaçaoan, and Latin American stories. The sea in the film isn't a specific place, but a symbol of origin, memory, and the legacy of our ancestors.

My mother is the living center of the film. Dressed in black, an absorbing and neutral color, she wears the masks one by one. She forms the bridge between generations, between past and future, between what remains and what changes. Her movement through the light blurs identity: origin becomes projection, and the body becomes a place where history and individuality converge.

The projection simultaneously distorts and reveals. The sea glides over our faces: the water that carries our culture and history literally flows over us. This creates a visual metaphor for diaspora and identity: we are never just one place or one story, but a mix, a movement, a constant process of becoming.
This installation is about strength in connection. About three women, each with their own story, who together form an unbreakable bond. About how we build our identity on the shoulders of those who came before us, without losing ourselves. About how we carry each other through thick and thin, and how strength sometimes comes precisely from vulnerability.