Painter Sandra Ramos has made her apartment in Miami into an extension of her studio. Her table, floor, and walls hold paintings that are finished or half-finished; fragments of that world of loss and disillusionment that can be seen in her work. From one wall, the Christ of Havana observes me; a bridge emerges from his stone chest and leads to the clouds, or heaven, or maybe nowhere. The painting is called “Christ” and belongs to a series of digital prints, Puentes, from 2004. “For me, bridges are very necessary,” she admits. “You spend your life on a bridge, and that’s good. Each person should follow his or her bridge, or path, even if in the end, you don’t know where it leads.” In her voice, you can still perceive something of that innocence that identifies the little girl, a combination of herself and Lewis Carroll’s Alice, who is the central figure in many of her paintings. That character appeared in 1993, in the first of her many solo exhibition: Manera de matar las soledades (Way of Killing Lonelinesses). By that time, a number of the themes that have marked Sandra’s work had emerged: immigration, unattainable dreams, the crisis of...