PZ
An investigation into the nature of memory and its relationship with identity, space, and matter, beginning with an "anti-diary"—the medical journal of the last days of life of a distant relative of mine, discovered by chance years ago. A chronicle written by others, which does not speak of the person now reduced to a complete coincidence with their medical condition as a patient. Hence, the title of the work, PZ, stands for patient.
As we leaf through this non-diary, we witness a slow process of depersonalization and loss, an antiseptic medical routine that, like a black hole, swallows everything: memories, words, places, and people.
In this anti-diary, the reports written by the nurses are accompanied by archival photographs, manipulated with different techniques in order to subject them to the same process of subtraction and loss of information.
As we leaf through this non-diary, we witness a slow process of depersonalization and loss, an antiseptic medical routine that, like a black hole, swallows everything: memories, words, places, and people.
In this anti-diary, the reports written by the nurses are accompanied by archival photographs, manipulated with different techniques in order to subject them to the same process of subtraction and loss of information.
