"Nothing ever ends poetically. It just ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood wasn't once beautiful, it was just red"
Altough I consider myself a visual person, most of the time I do prefer to have some sort of explanation or story behind a painting. It's one of those things that catch my attention and then lead me to some relfection.. (If only I was paid to reflecto upon life... I would be a billionaire)
Hopefully you remember last year's art project with La Perla Lingerie about a Catharsis...
Well, this years topic was love. But instead of basing my work on a love quote, I decided to take a different perpective and approach the topic from the outside with a quote that made me ask myself the unresolved questions love supposes...
Why do people actually write about love?
Is it good or bad?
Is it significant or just a word to which we atribute values?
A way to name feelings we don't understand?
In the end it lead me to something each one of us has to answered to himself...
Is love beautiful or just red?