As I told in my post "Spies", my mother saved my family from being teared apart by the military during the last dictatorship. She was strong during very dark months. This might sound self-prising, but it is true that I've inherited from my mother -and I thank to her- the ability of not abandoning a soul in need while it goes through long dark times. I thank to her the giant amount of bed time tales she read to me when I was a kid, I've got my taste for art in general from that. I thank to her she is a lioness fighting for just causes; many moral obligations I feel has been inherited from that. As every person she has imperfections. But this very low-contrast image was inspired by the times she fought for keeping the family safe, and having my father back home from arrest, while those very dark times of the dictatorship. She was a very tough flower in the middle of the night. And, as every mother has to go through hard times, this is dedicated to every mother too.
My mother groaned, my father wept:
Into the dangerous world I leapt,
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
William Blake, "Infant sorrow".