In 2017 I got diagnosed with breast cancer. I was soon connected to an infusion and the treatments began, my body weakened and began slowly to collapse from the poison. My hair fell out and I became bald. Despite the immense fear I was in, the disease aroused my curiosity: there is something very beautiful and intriguing in sickness. The loss of my hair and the thought that I might lose my breast, made me wonder what femininity means.

After I recovered, I realized that engaging in the body brings back a lot of difficult memories, so I was drawn to botanical painting. My grandmother brought me some plants for my porch at the time of the illness and I would sit there, watching and researching them. I was too weak to draw them but I imagined what I could create with their inspiration once I recovered. Since my love for botanical painting has only grown.

I'm engaged in painting that stems from a constant search. I create many series of paintings of myself and especially of my body. This endless invasive documentation allows me to evaluate the body in a way that is foreign to me and even serves as therapy — to accept and eventually overcome the betrayal, as it sometimes feels, of my body. 

I feel that my work is not a monolog to the world, instead it’s a dialog with myself. I explore the body, because it’s my way to cope with my own past trauma and present fear. By talking about it, I’m taking its power away. It becomes such a mundane part of my life instead of this scary topic that no one wants to talk about. It’s not scary anymore.