Lyrics
I never copy what I see
I translate the way I look
A model is never given
It is imagined before the frame
Before the light before the lens
There is a shape inside the mind
A geometry that searches
A line that wants to exist
I sketch I erase I return
The gesture repeats itself
Not by chance not by magic
But by craft and attention
I invent a muse to tell a story
Not to imitate but to create
She is imperfect and that is her strength
She moves she reacts she breathes
Making art is a profession
A language learned by repetition
The muse is part of the invention
And joy is the engine of creation
Like cinema before the camera
I build the scene before the face
Words become spaces
And spaces become emotion
Martha is not an image
She is a question in motion
A character built to feel
The world that surrounds her
Every form is tested
Every silence has a role
The work advances step by step
Until it smiles back at me
I invent a muse to tell a story
Not to imitate but to create
She is imperfect and that is her strength
She moves she reacts she breathes
Making art is a profession
A language learned by repetition
The muse is part of the invention
And joy is the engine of creation
From geometry to clay
From writing to light
From architecture to sound
I cross the same gesture
Again and again
Not alone
But accompanied by form
I come from a small hidden planet
Behind the sun of explanations
Where creation is a daily act
And joy is a method
I do not fear the questions
I answer with images and songs
Because to create a being
Is to transmit emotion
I invent a muse to tell a story
Not to imitate but to create
She is imperfect and that is her strength
She moves she reacts she breathes
Making art is a profession
A language learned by repetition
The muse is part of the invention
And joy is the engine of creation
Credits & ownership