A SPRING OF MY OWN (2020)

“Is there no way out of the mind?” (Sylvia Plath) 2020. A strange Spring in which flowers could not be seen. A time in which my home became a prison as well as a refuge, turning itself into a mirror, a window inside. A window composed of blurry images that, like pieces of stained glass, formed an impossible jigsaw puzzle that remains unsolved in my mind. A journey within my own walls, to my deepest fears and dreams. An invitation to embrace madness, surrendering to an unknown freedom. A necessary descent to hell. An unexpected labyrinth full of memories, illusions and mirages. An ode to darkness. An ode to the hidden light. A blessing and a curse. An awakening. That home was the only witness to my vulnerability, to my despair and sadness while the world was collapsing. It became the arms that held me every time I fell, the solace in my nightmares, the landscape of my imaginary Spring. The canvas where my tears found expression. The echo of my silence. And the reminder that brokenness can also be beautiful.