Manifesto: The Right to Grow Slowly

First of all, I need to pause to say thank you. A huge thank you to those who read, those who write to me, and those who have seen themselves reflected in this small project. I am aware that "Manifesto" is something very personal, and feeling that there are people on the other side vibrating on the same frequency is the best gift I could receive.

​I am also very aware that this project has baffled more than one person. I see it in my close circle, in my fashion and art group where we usually share what we are up to and support each other. They have seen my previous work: those canvases attacked with fury, seeking beauty in the smudge, in the dirt, in the visceral portrait full of imperfections and textures that were born from lack of control.

​And suddenly, I present this to them. Pencil sketches, clean, with lots of air, mixing the manual with the digital, where silence and negative space are as important as the stroke. I know the change is shocking, but I needed to cleanse my gaze. My "Manifesto" is not about shouting; it is about capturing that exact second when you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and feel that everything is over. That instant of absolute peace from which everything starts.

​This work has just been born. Literally, it is a baby. And like any newborn, its only mission right now is to exist and grow. Sometimes I feel that people, with all their good intentions, want this baby to start running before it learns to walk. They tell me to seize the moment, to exhibit now, to sell, to run. I understand that we live in a stressed world that demands immediate results, but I refuse to enter that race. You cannot ask a newborn to recite poetry after just a few weeks; first, it has to look at the world, babble, and make mistakes.

​Honestly, I don't care what is expected of me or about sales. I have decided to walk at my own pace, enjoying every step and every moment, without the anxiety of the finish line. I am often told that I am a rebel for thinking like this, for going against the current of the rush. But they are wrong. It is not rebellion. It is something much simpler and deeper: it is being true to my nature and loyal to my feelings.

​The reality is that today my work has no expectation of massive triumph. My only expectation is evolution. I want this project to grow with me, to mutate and change, but it will do so solely and exclusively when I feel it, not when others want it. Thank you for having the patience that the world has lost and accompanying me on this slow walk.

​And you, do you allow yourself to be "small" and learn slowly, or do you force yourself to run ahead of time?