What is the purpose of my life and my art?

My purpose began after a near-death experience when I was 21 years old. It was my first great transformation, my first death and rebirth of the self, a wound of great ardor and existential despair, which made me go from being a superficial person to being a profound person.

I was in a tremendous crisis after my near-death experience, because death is a point of view that I never had and that collapsed my perception of life. I was drowning by the awareness that I am alive without knowing what life is, who I am, what for or why, and the terror of knowing that this will end and I could have died there.

I remember looking at my hands and thinking: "What is this?", "Why does it exist like this?", "Why does something exist?" It was distressingly strange to see myself as if I were something foreign to me. I felt like my fingers were like tentacles of an uncertain and newly discovered creature, as if I were seeing life from the outside. That depersonalization gave me a horrible vertigo. During those years, I also went through a period of apeirophobia, which is a panic triggered by eternal and infinite things. I was terrified of looking at the sky, and also of thinking about the origin or meaning of life, when it was what I most needed to understand. Furthermore, I had no psychological tools to deaden any of that, I just felt that everything was beyond me and I felt that I needed time for myself, so I left my career as a graphic designer and broke up with my girlfriend of that time.

All the concentrated existential questions appeared and led me to philosophy not as a curiosity, but as a way to survive. While I was innocently writing philosophy, the only thing that made sense to me was something that I had always left aside all my life, that I hid in the last pages of my notebooks, and I never took it seriously: art. But it didn't make a rational sense to me, I don't know why, it was an intuition perhaps or just because I didn't see any other alternative, but it was a feeling of being the only thread that could hold me up. I could only keep what was most fundamental for me, because death touched my shoulder and I no longer had time for soulless things, so I bet everything on that passionate sensation. Not knowing how to explain this to myself, I tried to explain it to my family while crying, and I kept insisting, giving them a letter so they could read more explanations until they decided to support me in studying Professional Illustration.

And here I am after 11 years, those same questions are still open, but I have a little more understanding that allows me to live the uncertain better than before, and living passionately for knowing more about profoundness, and on the other hand, I continue dying and reborn the self, which restarts some of the impact of those questions.

Deep down, death initiated me into a lifestyle of transformation, from which I suffered and complained a lot at the beginning, and which I now work with it in the service of freedom. Death made me value life and give me the push to dedicate myself to being an artist. From Nietzsche's concepts, death helps me discover life affirmations.

As a Buddhist nun once told me: "Becoming a professional of dying is what life is all about." Every time that I die and reborn, I discover something, something appears from desperation, pain, sadness or vulnerability, which becomes a fundamental part of my health and sense of freedom.

My art is a core that allows me to study those transitions from various fields of knowledge and types of people. What I discover I give it to others as a spiritual tool that I consider valuable (and worthy of artistic embellishment), because with it one could recognize vulnerabilities and illusions, sustain or lift spiritual falls, and/or earn a virtue for a healthier life (for me being healthier is perhaps the wisest rebellion).

Therefore, my purpose is to die and reborn as many times as possible before I truly die, to discover new layers of depth of an authentic life, of an expansive life that truly nourishes me and where I feel really connected: of being, doing and share things with soul. I think that in this way I could die with a different terror, or who knows, even with serenity (I will only know in that moment), but at least in this way I could die satisfied and proud of having tried to truly live, touched by the love of sharing these tools from my art to others. I know that as long as I live, I will be happy every time someone uses my contributions on the path of their own empowerment and liberation.

There is a poem that I carry in my heart and I think it is a beautiful ending to this text, it is a fragment of "Altazor" by the Chilean poet Vicente Huidobro:

Uselessly you search with crazed eyes

There's no exit and the wind drives out the planets

You think this perpetual falling doesn't matter if you can manage to escape

Don't you see you're still falling?

Clear your head of prejudice and morals

And if in trying to soar you've gotten nowhere

Let yourself fall endlessly fearlessly fall to the depths of darkness

Unafraid of the mystery of your self

And perhaps you'll find a darkless light

Lost in the cracks of the cliffs

Fall

Perpetually fall

Fall to the depths of the infinite

Fall to the depths of time

Fall to the depths of your self

Fall as far as you can fall

Dizzilessly fall

Across all space across all ages