On October 1, 2017 the people of Catalonia held what the Spanish government deemed an “illegal” vote for independence.

We woke up at 5am and arrived shaking off sleep in the dark. We sat on the ground drinking hot chocolate and eating pastries baked by our neighbors. Before sunrise, hidden ballots were rushed past in black trash bags through the hushed crowd. We were living something out of a film, a clandestine resistance voting in secret. Then our day was turned into a sci fi totalitarian dystopia; the euphoria and excitement alchemized into fear and resistance. The paramilitary cops came at us with sticks and rubber bullets, broke the windows of our schools, snapped back our fingers, and lashed at our grandmothers. The images, horrific, lingered in our nightmares.

The following day, in the wake of the Spanish police brutality during the vote, I walk—as if in dream—from my house towards the shore. Dressed in traditional Catalan clothing (espadrilles and barratina), wearing a white gown with a sash around my waist and snorkeling goggles, I approach the water. I untie the espadrilles (an homage to the Catalan president Lluís Companys who took off his shoes to feel his land beneath feet one last time before facing Franco’s firing squad) and walk into the sea. White dress trailing behind, the line of gentle waves rolls against my shins and knees. I turn around to face my sister. With hands on waist, I stand still while my sister tosses balls of sand she has previously prepared. As they hit my body I stare ahead expressionless. The waves roll against me and the sand flies at me, but I find strength in the pose. In the video rendition of the performance, my sister chose to film this portion in slow motion to more dramatically emphasize the impact of the sand balls. After some ten minutes, the bombs cease. I remove the goggles and dip my body in the sea, emerging clean. I remove the sash from around my waist, unfold it in the water, and pull out the Catalan independence flag. My white dress soaked wet, and as I emerge from the sea with flag in hand the clothing clings to my female shape. My performance, “RESISTENCIA,” ends as I wrap my body in the flag and turn around to face the horizon.