Illustrator and graphic designer. The linear nature of her drawings and illustrations alternates with bold coloured surfaces. A simplified – but fluid shape breathes and gives breath to another shape that can be something specific – which gives you breath, too. The body in otherworldly positions, thoughtful and connecting with itself or, with a thought, with a colour or a small dot, with something big in a small.
Pickled in a glass, I am brewing another fragrant memory of us. When I was already alone and I felt good. How little startled I was, by how much time there suddenly was.
I bathed my soul in cinnamon tea. Cigarette smoke. I was gently fanned by the salty breeze on the shore of something. The horizon stretched in the distance. I now sit on it like a horse and drink the memory. No photos remained, only places, breeze and stones. The feeling of my old body that will be forever young. I water my soul with cinnamon tea.
The calling of a heron, the bleating of a deer, the singing of water, the touch of clay, clay in the mouth. Thirst. It takes me a long time to get to you. Many times I walk through the forest and touch the dirt with my bare feet. I can hear your muscles moving but you're not here. I see you. I feel the kiss and the taste of forest colours and scents as thin as the sounds from everywhere. Surrounded by a kiss, resting on the ground.
When you feel that the earth is a support and sometimes the only one present. A prehistoric image of man and woman, always separate thinking beings. What unites them is the roots and the earth. To be connected with the earth, to soak in it, to sink your feet into the moss and the whole body develops easily. Listen to everything growing. And nothing more – just being connected.
