At the age of three, barely able to hold a pencil, I started drawing… I never stopped.
I have been expressing myself through art my entire life. When I was five years old, my family left Cuba, commencing a lifetime of migration and hyphenation. This feeling of impermanence and non-identity, at home everywhere but not fully belonging anywhere became my way of life. This dichotomy of melancholy and ease, radical yet classical, underlies all my creations. All my work carries a message- social justice, equality ,spirituality, intellect; my innate and passionate need to express inarticulate feelings.
I carry a notebook with me everywhere I go and materials to write and draw since ideas are constantly floating in my mind all the time.
I start preparing mentally to work much before I actually begin. I commence with a clear idea of the message and the overall feeling of the piece. Once I start working I let the piece dictate the direction – we communicate with each other- we become one. I work completely alone, in the silence of my mind.
I am an artist because I breathe. I pour myself entirely on the work until there is nothing left of me. I hope to my last day to have paint on my face and hands, to be able to smell the peculiar smell of the oils and my eyes to see color that surrounds me, inside and out.
This is the life I had imagined for myself.
Art is my life. My beginning and my end.
The impetus of my work is my need to communicate and share a common human experience. I talk, feel and hopefully touch, through art.
My work is my word and my truth.