It's not a dream, it's a memory

A series of self-portraits (2012)
liquid emulsion on paper
25x25 cm

I woke up, but didn't want to. I can't speak. What can I tell you? If I close my eyes… Everything is easier with your eyes closed, because this is when your memory mixes with your dreams. I try to remember, to imagine. To cleanse myself. All women should run naked through wet grass every now and then. What can I tell you? I had to go on the journey again, and be one with it. To breathe. To confront. To grow.

In the series It’s not a dream, it’s a memory, I used photography as a therapeutic tool to confront and ultimately accept my unattainable desires. The ritual of the analog photographic process afforded me the time to materialize and work through the accumulated feelings. The bridge between dreams and memory became the path of emotional release, introspection and self-acceptance.