At the age of three, barely able to hold a pencil, I started drawing… I never stopped.
In trying to narrate my story, I must start with the single, serendipitous event that is the subtext for all my history, as well as the color, energy, and sound of my life : I was born in Cuba. My family left Cuba when I was 5 years old, commencing a lifetime of migration and hyphenation. The feeling of impermanence and non-identity became my way of life. Because I was a political refugee at such an early age, the plight of immigrants and those without a voice are very important to me and the reason I became an artivist – I use art as a vehicle of activism.
I start preparing mentally to work long before I actually begin. I commence with an idea of the message and what I want the overall feeling of the piece to be. I start working very early in the morning, with my mind at peace and fresh. I always work accompanied by music, which is a mixture of soft sounds, and within minutes, I’m fully in the zone and I no longer exist in this world. I do not hear anything other than the silent conversation between the piece and myself, our own intimate exchange. I don’t stop until either the work or my physical being demands it. I work completely alone, in the silence of my mind.
I am an artist because I breathe. I aim to paint a picture with my soul, and to create work that gives the viewer the space to dream. I hope to my last day to have paint on my face and hands, to be able to smell the peculiar scent of oils, and for my eyes to see color that surrounds me, inside and out.
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.