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The white canvas, as rice powder.
The psychedelic light playing over the surface.

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Islands that leave a stamp of madness.
It is an ever-returning wave.
Just as memories return, memories that shape us.

Lines, circles, dots, polka dots.
Images that are bridges over the immense ocean.
Collages of the Universe where a desperate love reigns.
A chaos that cries out for order.

Repeating patterns that look for her origin.
Catharsis through texture.
The exorcism of Evil through unknown eyes.

Expatriate youth to discover herself.
Coming back to the island to rediscover herself.

Thousands of echoes fill the silence.
Thoughts painted in pure colors.

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She is not her.
She is an installation of endless mirrors.
Where shadows are unspoilt
and death is beautiful.

Colored lights sprout from her work.
When we walk before her on the footsteps of a hidden trail, and we realize how lost we were.

One day her spirit will leave her body.
She will be it all.
Earth, fire, water and air.

We will be left with her Art.
We will be filled with Nothingness.

She will leave us a treasure in a quiet garden.

A starlight that will give Hope back, and reminds us that Love is never silent.