I have always observed the world from an amplified perception, perhaps, distorted by my own senses. Unaware that the rest of the world did not share my ways of perceiving, I felt at most times like an outsider. Through life, the feelings of being misunderstood, not belonging and being out of place accompanied me. Loneliness. Pretending to be someone else, then made me distance myself from who I really was. Only when I was in touch with my creativity, creating the stories, the drawings, I found the breath that set me free and broke the chains that trapped me.
A life threatening accident during adolescence abruptly took my innocence. It was right at the moment when I was going to start my training as a painter. Trapped under the car, my world completely disappeared. All that remained was absolute silence, and darkness.
In the hospital, I suddenly arrived in what felt like a virtual reality. There, what made or did not make sense, was transformed.
Luck could have been the reason that made the head doctor go against the whole department's wishes. Nevertheless, after six long hours in the operating room, he decided there would be no amputation.The arm that would later guide me to my destiny was saved.
I had to fight alone when I was prohibited from using or moving my arm for the remains. This and other similar sentences forced me to travel without the professionals who pushed me back to the bottom of the well, sometimes with false diagnoses.
I made my way through the mental noise, Gibberish, wandering and drifting thoughts. My purpose was to silence it, and that's what I am still doing.I discovered in the canvases a way to scream, words did not properly translate what I needed to communicate. We need to release the soul looking straight ahead the emotions and thoughts before the needed silence. And along the way I discovered that fear has always accompanied me.
I take refuge in the temples that sing my loneliness louder. Living between the hermetic walls that separated me even more from the world, but would bring me closer to me.
The road seems long and I go slowly, at my own pace. Still lonely.
About my work
Just as a certain fabric or way of dressing identifies you, the linen canvas and the materials I use are essential in the process. Choosing them with care, they will flow together.
I fell in love with what I am going to represent from the beginning, although I do not know it. I intuit its beauty and I travel towards it, discovering, deciphering. Through detailed observation I begin to find the essence, clean minded. It's a difficult puzzle that requires time.
The texture of the paper, the pencil, the charcoal, the oil stick, and finally the brush stained in oil. And I'm building until I reach the real stage. the time I spend, undresses me and cleans my eyes.
At a certain moment I start to work without fear, in a brutal way, being really me, maybe that's the inspiration people speak of, resounding security, devouring me.