The logo-image of La Foresta is changing with every season as the real forest does. Every new spring, summer, autumn and winter it celebrates changing seasons of nature and of our lives. As snow melts away, as buds turn into leaves, as leaves start to change colour, as they fly away with the wind, as new buds are born - at the turn of each season we invite a different illustrator to create a portrait of La Foresta in summer, autumn, spring or winter. Each illustrator's image will represent La Foresta online for three months and later will become part of the permanent Museum of Seasons. During these three months Visual Strolls becomes an online gallery, a visual viewing room, exhibiting the work of the invited artist. 

This SPRING we are showcasing the work of Jesus Cisneros. Jesus is an author, illustrator, and book-creator based in Mexico. We are fascinated and touched by the poetry, sensitivity, music and metaphors of his visual language, and are happy to present here a selection of images from our favourite books of Jesus (El Sueño, Cuentos de Shakespeare, Ramon, Il Respiro del Vento, and others). 

Alice in the woods

I like the mountains of Shi Tao and the yellow flowers that Federico García Lorca used to draw. In the city I especially like the trees, the ash trees appearing at the Ebro in Zaragoza, the jacarandas that in Mexico City illuminate the month of March. Perhaps, like Marcovaldo, we are all foreigners, exiled in the City, always with nostalgia for a distant Forest. Maybe that's why in my notebooks there are drawings of plants and leaves and flowers. Longing for the time when we were woods.
In Through the Looking Glass, Alice enters a grove where (she had already been warned about it by the mosquito teasing and sad) things have no name. Alice embraces a fawn that does not know he is a fawn and looks at her with huge eyes but without fear. So they go together until they come out of the forest: «"I'm a fawn!”- he exclaims joyfully. “And, oh dear! You are a human child!” With a sudden expression of alarm in his beautiful brown eyes, the Fawn went off galloping and disappeared a moment later.»
On leaving the forest Alice regained her name, but she felt very sad to see the fawn go away. After separation, there is melancholy and, also, the hope of reunion. Perhaps something of this yearning is in the exercise of drawing, in the search for images in that mirror that is a blank paper.


Alicia en el bosque
Me gustan las montañas de Shi Tao y las flores amarillas que dibujaba Federico García Lorca. De la ciudad me gustan sobre todo los árboles, los fresnos asomados al Ebro en Zaragoza, las jacarandas que en la Ciudad de México iluminan marzo. Quizás, como Marcovaldo, todos somos extranjeros, exiliados en la Ciudad, siempre con nostalgia de un Bosque lejano. Tal vez por eso en mis cuadernos hay dibujos de plantas y hojas y flores. Añoranza de cuando éramos bosque.
En A través del espejo, Alicia entra en una arboleda donde (ya se lo había advertido el mosquito bromista y triste) las cosas no tienen nombre. Alicia se abraza a un cervatillo que no sabe que es un cervatillo y que la mira con ojos enormes pero sin miedo. Así van unidos hasta que salen del bosque: «—¡Soy un cervatillo!—gritó con alegría—. Y … ¡Madre mía! ¡Si tú eres una cría humana!—. Con una repentina expresión de alarma en los hermosos ojos pardos, el Cervatillo salió disparado al galope y un instante después había desaparecido».
Al salir del bosque Alicia recuperó su nombre, pero se sintió muy triste al ver alejarse al cervatillo. Después de una separación queda la melancolía y, también, la esperanza del reencuentro. Algo quizá de este anhelo hay en el ejercicio del dibujo, en la búsqueda de imágenes en ese espejo que es el papel en blanco.


Jesus Cisneros