The white forest, 2016Buy artwork
I woke up at 30,000 feet and wanted to draw a forest. The trunks were veins and, the branches, capillaries. As much as I wanted to hide, I could no more than silence my voice, because everything was shown clearly and directly. How naive to want to cover my teeth when my stomach was outdoors, in public. How much ignorance to not have seen that those trees that covered my face, which restricted my wills, were whiter than any other visual phenomenon. How good to use this energy and intelligence to put myself on them to grow. How much affirmation is implied in not needing it. In the fourth generation everything is diluted, like the current of a river in a steep terrain.