To stand in the middle of two cultures. To grow up there. To grow up here. It is confusing for the being. It is reaffirming of the being.

As one moves away from the center (up North or down South), it is possible to see what part of the other side is integrated into our “middled” culture.

Sometimes I think of the city (Tijuana) as being the tissue that bonds the muscle to the bone. Where do cells stop being muscle and start being bone?

Is there a physical border between them or are there just a few hybrid muscle-bone cells that help to hold up the structure together?

The answer for that really doesn’t matter.

It matters that it does exist.

Saulo Cisneros (1979) / Artista audiovisual