For a long time I have been unable to make a self-portrait, for fear of exposure, for not finding it... Read More
For a long time I have been unable to make a self-portrait, for fear of exposure, for not finding it interesting enough, but above all, for not wanting to perceive with the physical eyes everything that only the inner eye could see and when materializing it make it tangible and real, and therefore blur it. But by using coal on an unprimed cotton cloth and covering my face in black I have found a possibility of escape from totalitarianism of the subconscious, because it was like drawing myself as I would draw an almighty being to a faithful servant. It was like tattooing my personal history in a virgin land that is open to accept and is offered unconditionally to everything that wants to pick it up. By covering my face in black, on the one hand, it helps me to perceive myself without complexes and on the other hand I transfer and identify my personal history with people from different parts of the world in critical and unfortunate situations that are so close, as in the corner of my house or so far thousands of kilometers away that I sometimes observe. Also, and without realizing it, only after reviewing the painting have I realized that the space so vibrant that it is the background is really a mountainous landscape of my grandmother's village, stamped in my memory and that somehow tried to surface.