After seven days navigating without orientation all my sweet water reserves were gone. During the day the sun was so intense that at night my eyes saw no moon, no stars, only darkness. The sea at night looked like a black marble floor, like a fancy ballroom but with no dancers. Touching my left hand with my right hand was the only way I found to feel some company. What did I leave behind? Land. What did I have in front? Only water. Fortunately dreamers don’t need land, but water wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. The constant waves finally disoriented me and after the third day they forced me to believe that there was no end and no beginning, just rhythm. I counted too many waves. Numbers are endless as waves… (excerpts from “The Book of Waves” a text by Diango Hernández).

HERNANDEZ_V3-2© The artist. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any retrieval system of any nature without prior written permission of the copyright holders, except for permitted fair dealing under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Editor
Andrew Renton
Photography
Anne Pöhlmann
Design
Pony Ltd., London
Print
Cassochrome
ISBN: 978-1-909693-14-2
Edition of 500
London
English / Spanish / Waves
16 x 24 cm
27 pages, 33 color images, softcover
Marlborough Contemporary
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London W1S 4BY
United Kingdom
+44 (0)20 7629 5161
info@marlboroughcontemporary.com
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