Time to admit: all I want from life is being an reputable artist.

Not that I've been working on making this possible. No. Not at all. Even now being into drawing classes for a few months, my dedication is still minimal.

But I'm on therapy this year, and I intend to make a lot of changes, inside and outside. Including moving to another city. Life always renews itself.

"How to make something beautiful?", was my question (and my quest since then) during my last ayahuasca trip (December 2008). I've still got no answer. I gave a look to the british writers (the comic book ones; Moore, Gaiman, Morrison, Ellis, Ennis, Carey) trying to understand how do they make that stuff that touches me. I sort of wish to live their lives (europe, money, writing, art worlds and such). I want so much, I could devour the moon. Third world has no space for (futile) aesthetics artisans. I need to be somewhere else.

Now it's all about making the Big Leap.