When you walk on Dominican Republic streets, especially in the colonial zone, you can’t miss these breathtaking murals by Medio Peso. Impressive street-arts with scarlet red colors about characters which tell us their stories without words. They frankly open your eyes to Caribbean Magic and Culture through deep roots that commit to looking in the past from our present: a harmony between all parties, rescuing each of our customs: the Caribbean, Taino and African.
The richness of the original culture energizes this island. We’re never alone, but not in a creepy way, each of our ancestors lives inside us, simply through our DNA. We are them. They are us. And we could say, that Medio, in a blink of an eye, reminds us this aspect by fixing memories of native people, powerful and warm ancestors, past souls that no one will ever be able to chase away.
“Our homeland as a divine being protects us and gives us its sun, its coasts, its lands. The mother who gave us her womb and her life. Still we make her bleed daily Can we see beyond the ordinary? Would we understand what is obvious to anyone’s eyes?”
Even if you don’t see us, we are there, even if you don’t hear us, we talk. In memory of our ancestors.
Walking through this area as thousands of people do every day, seeing the cultural crossroads that occurs and the commercial lung that this town means in the city, led us to a reflection that triggers the composition of a hybrid character, responding to the anatomy same of the place. Despite the diversity that this area has, they build a single great identity of a Franciscan village. Polluted, noisy, at times quiet and even magical.
Acrylic on canvas. ’20×20′ 
Going back to our roots even when they were so painful, even when a not so noble cause did us so much damage. It does not prevent us from seeing that within so much pain and disagreements, our essences were always the same, and a mother, no matter how many times her name changes from her, is still the mother of all.
A dignity that is impossible to reduce, even being pulled by miserable people who have lost the north, preferring to head south. We carry the heaviest load and at the same time the most humble and worthy of all.
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