Color in Cuba, excites and blinds.
The Cuban iconography seems to be immanent and try to get out of his immobility was often difficult. It seems as if in the retina had remained imprinted images who fail to give way to something else.
In recent years, also my eyes seemed to be "sick" of those colors so beautiful and attractive to never leave space to black.
During sleep, dream filters the feelings that the eye and the soul sensed in the reality.
Here was born Habana Cruda, in the moment of awareness of a new vision.
In this dream in search of reality, the color is gaping, like plastic on fire and finally bringing out all the "nakedness" of a reality, too long hidden in the beholder, but manifesting itself in all its power.
The reality of today's Cuba is going through a transition from a utopia that has struggled, lived and dreamed with dignity, to a future that is turning into the nightmare of his own dream.
In the "Isla grande" decadence, prostitution and poverty are heavy presences who openly show their crude face behind a colored mask.
