After my father passing away I cut myself from painting a lot because it reminded me of him. One night I was going through some tapes that he filmed while he was working in his studio. There was one particular scene where there was this huge wood panel on the floor, and out of nowhere my dad jumps into it and starts spinning on it, and when I saw that, I told myself, “That’s what I need to do, I need to get back into painting.” At the beginning of this new period I was doing the exact abstract style of painting that my father was doing during his last few years. After completing several works I felt like I need to find my own voice, my own style. One night I started working on a painting (#3) and in the middle of the process things started to get very emotional because the image of my father kept coming to me while I was painting.Things got so intense until the point where it felt as if my father was actually in the studio with me. The moment I felt this I completely broke down emotionally, but instead of stopping I decided to keep on painting and to let go, to let everything out and to paint whatever I was feeling in that moment without questioning it, without thinking how the painting needed to look. Upon finishing the painting I felt like a huge weight had been lifted, I felt free, at peace. That’s how “#3” came to be, how my first painting with a voice of its own came to be.
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