Confundias em mim
o silêncio com a melancolia
quando assistia imóvel
à passagem do tempo
e deixei que me atravessassem
suas marcas.

O silêncio é o recorte da alma —
se estás sem medo
e desapegado
o som do vazio
preencherá o ar:
nenhum bater de asas
nenhuma folha ao vento
será audível —
a vida te inundará —
corpo e sentidos.

Serás aquele que passou
pelo silêncio dos abismos
e sobreviveu
como, creio, eu.

(Fany Aktinol)

Every artist has some form of insecurity… about what they create, whether it’s good enough, [if] it’s gonna stay at the top, or it’s gonna still speak to people. Or is it going to lose its… relevance?

You can’t worry about these things. You have to create things that are truthful. And [by] truthful… I don’t mean truthful with the big “T”, just truthful to yourself. And authentic and honest, and that resonates with the experiences and situations that you’ve gone through.

I often wish that I’d gone through harder things in life so it makes my art richer in… somewhat… some layer, questioning my own identity, for some reason…

It’s not about you. It’s not about all your talents. Because all those things formed us [most] like a pseudo reality, you know, when you find all your validation in what you do. And if you surrender yourself to it [the great abyss] then those things become less important, and you find your creativity again. You find out the reasons why you create.

Creativity… it’s not for yourself. It’s to serve others.