Looking at the mirror I see a figure of a woman, the shape, the flesh. What is inside? To look is to take action; I fight. Through the self-destruction of what was constructed by the outside without consent, I master myself, and rebuild the image that I choose, within me. Repeatedly, daily; as an exercise of existence. Then, I embroider the proof that I was there. The blood surrounds to remember that I'm alive and that my body represents life and death, peace and war, pain and love. All the leftovers are proof (video, paintings, photographs) to never forget what is happening inside me while I question myself: What takes to be a woman?

Cultural roots, family memories, social environment and gender issues: self investigation. Art is my way to understand. 

Using Format