When I was very young I discarded the idea of being a housewife. I don’t want anyone to be confused, I have nothing against them and it seems to me to be as honorable job as any other. It just isn’t for me. At a very young age I dreamed of being an artist and traveling around the world. I imagined a bohemian life, almost always on a plane and with a different apartment every week in each country.
Nor did I see me with children. Not married. It wasn’t very compatible with the rest of my plans. At most, one lover in each city, like the sailors.
However, fate is capricious and sometimes takes you down paths you can’t even imagine. Having children, a stable partner and getting married no longer seems so far-fetched to me. I don’t want a lover in every harbour and I prefer a house in a good city to call home. Still, I don’t think my childhood dreams were too far from what I want now. I still hope to fly all over the planet thanks to my work.
I was a housewife for a while and I have never felt so trapped. I kept remembering that girl imagining herself spreading her art around the world. That’s what I wanted to talk about in this photograph. I show myself at that moment, with a supposedly “luxury” life but it wasn’t mine. In a beautiful and colorful garden, and yet I am monochromatic and lifeless, trying to recover, in some way, the rebelliousness that I once had.
