In the raw concrete, in the silent cracks, on the rough surfaces, it is there that the beauty that moves me is born.

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Imagine yourself in front of a concrete wall, the rough touch under your fingers, the smell of fresh cement in the air. Each crack, each mark, carries a story. This is the starting point of my work: the union between the raw and the invisible, between time and transformation.

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Each mark, each imperfection, each fragment carries the memory of time. The material resists, but it also transforms.

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Cement and concrete are not just materials, they are pathways. They are molded memories, sensations petrified by time, maps of human imperfections and the persistence of life.

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Just as concrete sustains cities, our experiences sustain who we are. Just as cement holds in its cracks the traces of time, we too carry in our skin the marks of everything we have lived through.

 

Art is an invitation to reconstruction.

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Each surface, the movement of time, colors that blend like dry concrete, textures that reflect the friction of our lives. Each work I create is a sculpture of memories, where each mark on the wall is a story, and each layer of paint is a piece of soul.

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With each layer, with each transformation, we reaffirm that everything is in motion. There is no end to the process; there is always a new layer to be discovered. Even the hardest of materials can carry the invisible breath of creation.

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For me, art is a celebration of imperfection. Just like concrete, which transforms with each layer, life invites us to reconstruct ourselves. As the layers accumulate, we realize that we are stronger, deeper, and more capable of transforming what is raw into something beautiful.

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Each imperfection, each broken line, is a reminder, a mark of who we were and what we have overcome.