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I grew up in the last block of our village, where the forest and the beach became one. I used to spend most of my time there, by myself, exploring with my imagination and curiosity. While other kids would run and climb, I would walk in stillness, stuck in my own imagination, looking down at the small things, the ones you don’t see at first glance, picking tiny flowers, sea glass touched by the ocean or a beautiful stone.

I’ve never really grown out of that little girl, I used to fight her for a lot of years, to fit into this society where everything masculine and tough is the norm. But I’ve landed in that little girl again, her love for everything beautiful, the dreamer, the romantic and the fascination for everything that isn’t perfect, the darkness that is hidden in everything.

This is where my art starts and ends, in every brush stroke and every tiny line of my pencil, that little girl comes alive and thrives.