Art is how I remember that I exist.
I create from silence.
From what trembles, from what aches, from what refuses to be explained.
In a world that demands clarity, I offer fog, gesture, instinct.
My art is not decoration. It is declaration. Of survival. Of sensitivity. Of presence.
I believe in imperfection as truth. In slow looking. In softness as strength. I
n the fractured as sacred.
I do not chase the spectacular —
I search for what is real.
For what breathes between lines, in shadows,
in the stillness of things that do not scream, but echoes.
My language is emotional gesture. Sometimes bold, sometimes minimalist,
something that holds memory.
A tension between light and absence, form and freedom.
To create is to return to myself.
To unlearn noise.
To dissolve masks.
To offer others a space to feel — not just observe.
I do not make art to be understood.
I make art to be felt.
This is my practice.
This is my devotion.
This is my way of saying: I am here. Alive. Unfinished. True.
— Ravene Voluz
