Painting... for me... is nothing short of passion, a passion I live as an essential part of my life. I'm a hedonist: I paint to please myself... I paint for beauty's sake. I don't love color... I live color. If you ask me why I'm dominated by my Latin-ness or about its omnipresence in my work, my answer would be something irreverent in the extreme, because traces of my cultural baggage don't just exist, but flower, in my paintings: traces of Latin traditions, histories, and philosophical thought (but in my world, passion always conquers reason!) My paintings are a diary of the reality of the our times and our lives. In making entries in this painted diary, I task myself with molding together everyday things, everyday feelings, and my passion for the day-to-day using color as my sensory tool... it's a rebellious Latin blood that courses in my veins and feeds my need to paint, my need to live. I work in oil, because it is at once pure and natural, with a unique aroma that makes me feel alive, its lingering scent mute testimony to that selfish pleasure. The pigments stoically take the pressure of my pallette-knives, and meld themselves into the canvas like the hard ,yet sweet and tender, caress one gives a woman. It allows me to caress it... over and over... until we are consumed in an indescribable pleasure... where perspectives and limits disappear while maintaining the essence, feeling and artistic result. My work envelops all that energy, all that passion... no easy task to open one's heart to the unknown and learn as one goes along. And so, like white bedsheets, my canvases welcome all my desire, my sweat, all my feelings for art... everything that (in my thoughts) I've converted into Woman. giving rise to a swirling whirlpool of ideas and emotions that become divinely transubstantiated into a pure pleasure. Such is my work. Such is my being. Where passion always surpasses reason. Less