Painting by Irene Balia
Text by Maite Leon

“In the maternal landscape of turmoil
She searches for the memory of the present moment
Her dislocated gaze restless on a static page

Impassive, she imbibes the words laid down
vibrant with a thousand colours
In the wrinkles of her brow
Two clicks away from the flower of her faded adolescence

Oh, time, where have you been?
– Don’t you worry now. Everything is gonna be just fine.

Elusive, she hides behind the curtain of emotions
Floral bouquet of jasmine
Like a reflection of her own image
Veiled by a happy memory

Sweet melancholy imbued with an ancestral past
In the tradition of these idolised women
Who drips in the anamnesis
As they whisper beneath her skin

From the indigo blue of the depths of the soul
She rises from the foam of becoming
In this moment. Incarnated.”

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