i have been thinking a lot about art and how it came to me. but relating to this huge project of self discovery and introspection as myself and my art, its the biggest mountain to climb. my insecurities are loud and my abilities are shy. the perfection in my mind demands perfection in my surroundings and with it my instant failure.
i want to do social pieces, political pieces, commentaries on art history and my own history with art history, i keep finding excuses and time that will never come back.
i started drawing myself and looking at old baby pictures and toddler pictures of me, i loved looking at magazines and news papers, i choose to watch images than play with my toys, i choose to live in my mind. i was quiet, introspective and independent child.
i started searching on my own history for about 4 hours, sucking up all the parts i wanted to have more research of, the ugly parts of Colombia that were omitted by people before who thought it was OK for us not to have history, to not know the truth of our own chaos and the blood shed in the streets have washed away but the memories linger in the yes of those who have lived far more than i have.
but then i came to the conclusion that if i wanted to tell my story with a commentary, the chronological scheme of everything, i should start with history ignorance. not by choice but by law.