My dear,

It grows and morphs. It grows and becomes something comparable to me wearing my heart on my sleeves; It grows and becomes my childhood, my first break-up, my relationship with my parents.

I begin with an idea and then it turns into something else. Usually something deeply revealing that I would have shunned and looked away from if given the chance. But this is my art, it is my confession, and it is my diary.

This is my art, my therapy session, that begins with an idea and then…

Falsely yours,
Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso