A painting dedicated to all of the moments where I wanted to run away. I’ve never really been one who wanted to escape, my will to endure was always stronger than my will to flee. Despite that, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t moments in which I wish my body had the power of a thousand wild horses that wanted to return home, to wherever that place might be.

I think everybody has felt that way at one point or another. It’s inevitable, it’s almost like vertigo, like being at the top of a mountain, at the edge of its cliff with the urge to jump. Not because you necessarily want to but because you know that you can.

This feeling reminds me of being a teenager, that recklessness of discovering things for the first time and the high speed intensity of it all. It’s a bittersweet feeling, and this is a bittersweet piece.

In the end I guess I can see myself as this fast car, always moving.