Being a very young girl, since I can remember and I assure you that I have very early memories, I have felt attacked by the world, by society, a society that seemed and still seems hostile and cruel to me, hostility that I have found in colleagues, even between friends and family. I felt and feel that the world attacks me.

My refuge, my art. I don’t remember the day I started drawing and coloring, I just remember doing it. My mother used to say: “You just have to give her a pencil and you won’t hear her anymore”, I remember my mother sewing and me at her feet, among threads and scraps, with a sheet of paper and a pencil, sometimes many pencils. colors. What I do remember is that when she drew, when she painted, the world was silenced. It was just me and my art. When he painted, the world was silent.

When I paint the noise stops, the violence stops, the aggressiveness stops, only silence and my inner world remain.
Many times I am told that my paintings convey peace, relaxation, tranquility, even love. That is my inner world, the world of silence. Where everything becomes peace and quiet.

Enter my paintings and rest your soul as I rested mine when painting it, find that place of absolute comfort, where everything is fine, where cordiality, kindness, generosity and protection are present in each brushstroke, in each gesture, in each fold. And when a cry “arises”, remember that it is the scream of liberation.