Mi criatura de sueños Painting

I paint because I need it. I need to dump my world on a board, on a canvas and there to express my fears, my desires, my frustrations, the landscape of my deep background. Only then do I feel really free, without complexes, without ties of any kind or to formalities, or concepts. When I paint, I feel as if I fly, without sure refined technique, without exhaustive certain knowledge, without obvious experience ... but during those moments when I am alone, with my hands stained by the paintings, and I look at the forms that begin to sprout on the Canvas, I spread my tired wings and flight, better or worse, but for a brief moment time stands still. That is for me to paint. Painting, as well as writing, are two passions that start in my childhood, occupy my adolescence, disappearing during my youth and maturity. Sometimes due to the stress of studies or work, sometimes due to family occupations and sometimes due to pure laziness. Until they both fell asleep in a hidden basement that I ended up accidentally closing. About three years ago I fell into a swamp. I discovered a part of me that I completely ignored. The perfect daughter, the perfect sister, the perfect couple, the perfect friend was a human being with defects, with weaknesses, with her own dark side. And it has been in these last two years, during this hard path of guilt, flogging, acceptance and finally forgiveness, when, looking at myself in the mirror, I have wondered what I really want, what my dreams are. And here I am.