I was born with an open wound, and colors pouring from it. Don't call me brave or a martyr; I'm just a woman who learned to love even in the midst of pain. I am a brush, I am a scream, I am broken flesh and a burning spirit. I paint myself because I am the only thing I know with fury, with tenderness. And if anyone doesn't like it, don't look at me, because I didn't come to fit in, I came to be.
Mexican painter