This watercolor renders a conical white lighthouse morphing into a domestic table lamp, its cylindrical tower flaring at the base and crowned by a wide, translucent shade enclosing the lantern room, isolated against an inky black expanse that amplifies its solitary glow and subtle ground shadow.

The hybrid form subverts the faro—a longstanding Cuban emblem of navigational salvation for seafarers and, metaphorically, ideological or spiritual direction amid isolation—by confining it to bedside utility, its beacon muffled under fabric to suggest a thwarted cry for unshielded illumination in eras of political and economic obscurity, where grand public symbols shrink to private consolations.

Collaboratively crafted by Los Carpinteros (Marco Castillo, Dagoberto Rodríguez, and Alexandre Arrechea, though post-2003 works typically involve the duo), the piece aligns with their practice of distorting architecture and quotidian objects to unpack social tensions, infusing humor-tinged absurdity with critiques of functionality and danger; here, the lighthouse's light evokes subconscious guidance and hope, personalized by Rodríguez's birth in coastal Caibarién, a region dotted with faros symbolizing resilience against surrounding voids.