1982, when I visited Bolivia, I began questioning whether I was American or Bolivian. Like I had done as a child, I needed to create a shrine where the conflict of being born in Bolivia and working with technology in the United States harmoniously could inhabit the same space.
Driving on the outskirts of Oruro, a mining town three hours from the Bolivian capital I noticed a mound of dirt that looked out of place. My cousin called it a huaca. I looked up Huaca in a Quechua dictionary. A huaca is defined as a sacred object or being, an unusual or extraordinary plant or rock, a prominent mountain peak, the snow on the highest peak, as well as an ephemeral concept, such as time.
Huaca, combined my Andean homeland with the logic of the computer. The installation is a seven-foot high, eight-foot-wide, and three-foot deep. I painted it green, purple, orange, and blue—the same colors as the primitive Apple II. The structure is influenced by the cultures of Bolivia. In the front, there is the Andean Cross. Below Huaca's cross, in the shape of an upward-facing triangle, is a peephole. Through the peephole appears virtually infinite, rapidly transforming, kaleidoscopic patterns generated by SpaceLace, software that I created with Bob Bishop. Inside is a five-foot kaleidoscope is built with front surface mirrors so the images appeared almost infinite. Below the peephole, on a ledge, rested the Apple II keyboard. To change the pattern, the user presses a different key.
