Sunt un A sau un Z si mai putin un X, cum cei mai multi m-ar defini. Nici copil si nici matur, ma lupt pentru echilibru pe o sfoara intre aceste doua identitati si cred ca nici una nu ma reprezinta si nici nu ma va reprezenta vreodata. Un copil rasfatat care vrea sa faca lucruri serioase sau mai bine nu, sa se joace de-a serioasa.
Si cum sa fiu altfel cand toti ceilalti imi cer sa stau in rand, un rand ca o linie industriala unde fiecare trebuie sa semene cu fiecare? Eu sunt eu si vreau sa fiu doar eu si pentru asta nu ma potrivesc in randul acesta fara varietate. Sunt exceptia care confirma regula, etalonul la care cei din rand se raporteaza si isi spun “asa nu”. Dar ce e mai important pentru mine, sa fiu eu sau ei? Nici eu nu stiu. Eu as zice:”dar si ei sunt fericiti, chiar mai mult decat mine; dar e fericirea lor pe care nu o inteleg si pe care nu o vreau, dar vreau sa fiu fericita, iubita, inteleasa…” De unul din rand? Poate si de cineva de acolo de la ei sa fie celalalt minus-ul, eu fiind plus-ul, sau poate e invers?Cine imi poate raspunde cum e mai bine? Nici macar eu, daca as avea raspunsul inseamna ca m-as alinia cu toti ceilalti la o fericire, adica la o multumire comuna unde nu-mi apartin.
Sau gata cu polemica, oricum n-o scot la capat. Eu trebuie sa creez sa pictez, pentru ca asa mi-am ales sa ma exprim, sa fiu inteleasa. De cine? De cei ca mine? De cei care nu se inteleg pe ei insisi? Care ar fi rezultatul? Ceva frumos care oricum nu are un capat si nici nu cred ca trebuie sa aiba, arta nu are limite tangibile nici de noi, cei care o cream. De asta e arta, sa nu fie inteleasa de toti, sa fie neinteleasa de cei din randul acela care nu vor disparitia speciei umane. Interesant, chestia cu conservarea speciei , dar noi, eu, dorim disparitia noastra, a tuturor? Sau producem diversitatea care asigura o sansa de adaptare si implicit continuitatea omului pe pamant? Sunt multe intrebari si raspunsuri in aceeasi masura. Am lamurit astfel cum stau lucrurile? Sau putem continua la nesfarsit cu imagini si reflexii care se anuleaza reciproc. Vreau sa inchei cumva si nu stiu cum, pentru ca nu stiu inca si poate nu voi stii niciodata cine sunt eu, si atunci, cum sa inteleg cum sunt ceilalti? Sunt o exotica, o extremista, o absurda, o frumoasa, o dulce….o contradictie

I am an A or a Z and less an X, at least this is what most people would say about me. Nor child, not woman, I am constantly struggling to maintain a balance between those two identities which are not and will never represent me. I am a spoilt brat who wants to do serious things or maybe not, just a child playing to do so.
How can I be different when all the others ask me to stay in line, a queue like an industrial production line where all are meant to be alike?
I am ME and I want to be ME and that is why I don’t fit in this queue without personality. I am the exception which confirms the rule, the bad example the others would avoid. And what is more important for me, to be ME or them? I don’t know. I would say: they are also happy, even happier than me. But that is their happiness I cannot understand and I would never want. I myself want to be happy and loved and understood…” By the one in the queue? Even by one of them if that one is ying and I am yang, if that one is Alpha and I am Omega? Who knows better the answer? All I know is that I prefer so seek for the answer instead of finding it because the journey is always more important than the final destination.
But let’s stop this nonsense inner polemic, it’s useless anyway. I must create, I must paint because this is the way I’ve chosen to express myself to seek for understanding. By whom? By those like me? By those who cannot understand themselves? What would then be the result? A neverending beauty. And art should never have limits. Not even for those who create it. Because this is the essence of art: to be understood only by the chosen ones and meaningless for those who seek for the perpetuation of species. And here it is the biggest contradiction: while others struggle to exist, to breed, to stay in queue, I want to be unique, to exist as long as I will live and no more afterwards. There are many questions and answers for them. Shall I ever provide a solution? I could carry on endlessly with images and reflections which could mutually cancel each other. I want to conclude, but I don’t know how because I don’t know yet and maybe I will never do who I am and thus how am I supposed to understand the others?
I am an extremist, an exotic person, an absurd one, a beautiful soul, a sweet presence…I am a contradiction.