To overlook the meaning of a word may reflect the fact that it has become completely embedded in everyday language. We use the word landscape (paisaje) so often that it risks being reduced to a distant view, the horizon, and a scene in the countryside, but returning to its origins can reveal other paths or bring together a definition with an expression. The artists gathered here show us a variety of ways to approach, portray, or imagine a landscape. They conjure, unite, or involve others in a lived moment.

Laura López and Paula Abril, using traditional elements within the genre, share memories of contemplating open fields, clouds, and the lives of other animals, in Villa de Leyva and Paz de Ariporo, respectively. Julián Burgos, for his part, paints oil landscapes that he has modeled in 3D programs where he distorts perspectives until they become impossible, mixing them with interior landscapes where the jaguar appears. Iván Rickenmann tells us about reclaiming a piece of the landscape and making it our own with its own elements, going from the soil to the land and then to memory.

Returning to the horizon line, Martha Lucía Ramírez depicts human chains of migrants crossing through what appears to be mist, and also presents distortions of maps that become completely abstract. Ramón Laserna brings us closer to a straight horizon found in the traditional union of water and land, in the distance of a village, or approaching the meeting of two parts of a wall.

Ana María Velásquez finds a little optimism in the game of creating a nursery for mangroves that live in the elements that destroy them. Juliana Correa, also recovering materials, but in her case fabrics from clothing and notarial folders, presents a floor plan of what could be an excavation, making an offering of silence with each stitch. Eduard Moreno also engages in an exercise of intangible connection, perhaps magic, with ashes collected from a moorland fire, or with copper recycled from electronic devices, portraying landscapes and native potatoes.

Rodrigo Spinel shows us the map as a field of narratives, where the territory is depicted according to a country's political interests in mass circulation items such as stamps. Counterbalancing the distant view of the map, Priscilla González invites us to pause and reflect on the lost things of everyday life in the city and in the house with her scraps of cardboard.

Diego Arango invites us to look at the ‘Estrellas’ (stars) with the strangeness of someone who has lived with the city lights, but looks at the sky from a place far from the light. Meanwhile, Jeison Sierra, thinking about the arrival of gold on earth, offers us an imagined, overhead landscape from another time. Álvaro Correa shows us the landscape as a conversation with matter, finding shapes suggested by wood, highlighted by the darkness of fire.

Together, these pieces find many perspectives within the same word. As Javier Maderuelo says, landscape is a cultural construct that is not limited to nature. It is a feeling about the places we inhabit.