Under the influence of Louis Kahn, Cacho understood that the shadow belongs to the light. That light is the creator of the material and that the purpose of the material is to cast a shadow.

In college being surrounded by 3D printers, laser cutters, CNCs, a wood shop, and a metal shop; he established for the first time an exploratory relationship with art. He learned to use programs to model objects and to create spaces.

While working as an architect with Fernando Romero and Norman Foster and as an interactive design consultant for Google and Meta among other companies, he eventually became an entrepreneur himself and co-founded his own startup.

He was financially backed by Y Combinator, the most prestigious accelerator in the world where Airbnb, Dropbox, Rappi, and Reddit among many others were born.

All that hustle to make an impact and be successful led him to the emotional rollercoaster of many ups and downs. Faced with all this, making art became a way of grounding himself and living in the present.

During the beginning of the pandemic, he experienced the breakup of a long courtship. He spent most of the pandemic alone and for the first time in his life, he was faced with depression. After having spent ten years abroad, he returned indefinitely to be with his family in Caracas, where he once again turned to art.

He remembered welding metal in college and how this was one of his happiest moments. He remembered his exploration of light and shadow throughout his career as an architect and wanted to connect his past with his present. He set out to reconnect with his roots and who he is today. And for the first time, he questioned what makes his “Caraqueño”.

He decided to create “There is no light without shadow”, his first solo exhibition, where he explored his emotions through light and shadow.

In which he reflected upon his roots and expressed what Caracas is for him. The Ávila in the background, the macaws in the afternoon touring the city with their singing, and the little frogs and crickets that wrap him up with their concert every night as he falls asleep as he returned, and would sing to him on the phone from far away as he spoke to his mom on the phone during afternoons and evenings.

"One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious" - Carl Jung

The context, the light, the time, and the day make the work change. The true work is the shadow that the artwork casts. The series of changes is the real me. A self-reflected in each and every one of these changes.

The Avila is a symbol of where I come from, but the real me exists in its shadows.

Carl Jung said that our shadows make us aware of who we are. That by accepting ourselves as we are, we can become complete. By understanding our shadows and accepting their changes, it is possible to reach what Jung called the individuation process, the self-realization of oneself.

During the 10 years that Cacho was living outside Venezuela every day he would call his mom. Or to be honest, she called him. Between the time change and work life they always talked at night. But many times they spoke, the little frogs spoke harder than them. From there this work is born. “Mom, I can't hear you.” That sound that for those who live in Venezuela is a dull sound but that for those Venezuelans who live abroad remember, and wherever they are, if they close their eyes and listen to it, they imagine they are at home. “Mom, I can't hear you” is a symbol of nostalgia for all those Venezuelans who, upon hearing a frog, think of Venezuela and their family.

Seeking to reunite with Caracas, two sounds appeared recurrently: in the afternoons the song of the macaws and at night that of the little frogs and crickets.

The latter represent a deaf sound, the one that we stop hearing out of habit, even though it is among us. The one we grew up with and became aware of when someone mentioned it.