RUMBO, OR TOWARDS WHERE TO GO 


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For some time now I have been thinking obsessively about the idea of direction.

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In part as a personal yearning for guidance amid life’s uncertainty, but mostly because it is such a fascinating concept in itself. A direction is neither an object nor an action. It does not necessarily imply movement or change, yet it orients and gives bearing to a potential movement or evolution, defining its possible path or trajectory within a formless void. It is that which determines towards where.

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Many of the recurring motifs and geometric shapes in my work can be understood in relation to the objects and mechanisms we use to navigate and find our way: the sun and the stars, usually represented as circles or multi-pointed figures; self-evident arrows, points, and chevrons; and finally the diamond or rhombus, with its corners pointing up, down, left, and right.

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I found it particularly interesting to learn that the Spanish word “rumbo” —meaning course or direction— shares the same root as “rhombus.” The Greek rhómbos, originally “something that spins,” was the name given to a spinning top that magicians used to divine destiny. By extension, it also referred to a biconical shape and its silhouette. Later, through cartography and the cardinal points of the compass (north, south, east, and west), the concepts of “rumbo” and the rhombus shape reconnect once again.

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Coincidentally, I have recently returned to using sanguine ink and reddish pigments in my drawings. Most of these pigments are based on iron oxides and minerals such as hematite —the very compounds that give certain rocks their ruddy color and bricks and pottery their warm orange hue. And it is precisely a gigantic ball of molten iron —the core of the Earth— that generates the magnetic field on which compasses rely.

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Domingo Górriz, april 2026.