‍Each one represents the valuable lessons I’ve learned in life throughout my 30 years of age, those I’m still learning. That’s why I’ve named this collection "Untitled," because I don’t think I’ll ever finish it.

..(the following history is true and super transparent)..

‍The first valuable lesson came when I was 15, with “The First Journey.” It was one of thebeautiful adventures I faced during my early adolescence. Back then, I was rebellious—butwith a cause, hahaha. One day, while passing by a Hare Krishna temple, I found what wouldbecome the pillar of support for the rest of my existence: mantras, meditation, andvegetarianism. Among other things, I also found some answers to my uncontrollableexistential questions that overwhelmed me as a teenager—questions I think every personhas: What is life? Why are we here? Why this? Why that?... etc. I arrived at a response to many of those questions: they can only be answered if I look withinmyself first. The only way to understand the world is to knowing myself first and then reflectthat understanding outward. And so, “The First Journey” was formed. Oil on canvas. After my time with the Krishnas and in an eco-village, I became rebellious again—nights ofparties, sex, excesses, friends, etc. A potpourri of emotions left me addicted to uncertainty.It was during this time that I met my first love. I had relationships before, but I wouldn’t callthem that (they and mine lacked a certain maturity, I think.) On a Monday night party, I methim, and we spent four beautiful and intense years together. But for the sake of my growth,and after taking ayahuasca a couple of times in the jungles of Ecuador, I realized it wasnecessary to cut that bond. It hurt—damn, it hurt—but once I healed, I understood that it’sbetter to have loved than never to have loved at all. Love always hurts, gives, and takes, butin the end, it fills you with gold. Inspired by the Japanese technique of repairing brokenporcelain with gold, I felt the same. New, beautiful parts were integrated into me. And so,“Love” was created. Oil on canvas, From the same experience, but from a less earthly state of consciousness, “Temperance”was born. Oil on canvas, In search of restoring my mental health, I went to Ecuador to findmedicine (ayahuasca and temazcales with San Pedro, mescaline). I underwent an extremecleanse: no sugar, no cigarettes, no drugs, no meat, no sex for a month before taking it.Then I went to Ecuador. My best friend welcomed us with his girlfriend at the time. Abeautiful country—the food, wow. The first medicine was a temazcal with San Pedro. I can’tdescribe it fully, but to summarize the astral journey: I found myself in the middle of thejungle, on a paradise beach, inside a tipi. It was pitch black—no light touched the interior.They gave me this liquid, with a strong taste, not pleasant. Listening to the chants andinstruments of the shamans, I left—I left that place. I was no longer in the jungle. I was in themiddle of a desert, a full desert with the light of either dawn or dusk—it was neither night norday, neither morning nor evening. The starry sky had an orange line marking the boundarybetween the sky and the earth. Sitting on a rock, an Indian danced, blew petals onto me, andI suddenly returned to the jungle. It was around 3 p.m. in that place. Then I saw, in the steam from the stones inside the temazcalwhere I was sitting, semi-naked and sweating, an owl. I felt that the grampa, the spirit ofSan pedro, had shown me my spirit animal. (I could write ten pages about this experience, but I’ll summarize as much as I can.) Of the three times I took ayahuasca, the second was the most revealing and healing. I criedfrom the depths of my soul and wounds—something deeply therapeutic. I vomited andflew—oh, how I flew. Passing through different tunnels of incredible geometry and colors,with my eyes closed yet still in that tipi, I listened to the flute and the chants of the shaman,along with the sound of the wood burning in the fire. The shaman blew tobacco onto me andsaid, “Surrender, stop fighting, let go,” and I let go. I felt as though I was dying... my heartslowed, my body heat diminished—it wasn’t pleasant. I felt like the tunnels were absorbingme completely. I passed through different dimensions until I found myself in the middle of atransparent crystal box, surrounded by galaxies and tall white beings with no human form.But they had grandfatherly face masks —I felt they adopted those faces so I’d understandhow ancient they were and not be afraid. At that moment, I spoke with them. Later, when Ireturned, all I could remember was the sound of their voices, like the sound of the Australianindigenous instrument, the didgeridoo. After passing through many healing stages of thatjourney, by morning, when the ritual ended, I felt peace and a sensation I can’t describe. Butinside me, everything was balanced. I truly understood and felt that everything is infinite.Nothing really dies. Wow, what a feeling... After that journey ended, I found myself immersed in the search and enjoyment of beingsingle—sad and happy at the same time. Being single is a bit of a juggling act. Bisexual allmy life, I’ve always liked men and women equally—though sexually, I prefer women.Enjoying Berlin’s orgies and craziness without judgment, I must say, I’ve eaten well—I’vetasted and consumed almost everything, having both good and bad times. I had the idea tomake an ode to my greatest ally in my body: my clitoris. Thank you for making memultiorgasmic—truly, thank you. After nights of lust and self-pleasure, “Clitoris” was born. Oil on canvas, When things beganto take shape, my art, my tattoos, myself, my exhibitions. etc I started to know myself better,reflecting on situations that revealed layers of my persona. I decided to create myself-portrait, which led to a great question: What am I? What defines me? For me, it’s not myface or my body because they change, just as my persona does. But what has persistedover time? My desire to create art, my love for nature, my head in the clouds ofimagination—everywhere and nowhere at the same time—my admiration for the esoteric,and the memory of the greatest love I experienced as a child, thanks to my grandparents'upbringing. Each of these five parts of me is reflected, hidden in the nails of my hand,pointing. So I told myself, “Of course! I’m a concept of this.” And that’s how my self-portraitwas born. I forgot to mention that the journey of painting this was a great and beautiful LSDtrip, alone in my apartment in Pankow, amidst laughter, tears, questions—trying to reach thedepths of my memories and thoughts, looking at the mirror, talking to myself, dancing, trulyenjoying the beautiful introduction of myself to persona. That’s how “Donna” was born. Oil oncanvas, These stories continue. There are seven paintings so far, but here I’ve shared only five.Tolearn more about my other artworks, you can find them on my website: donna-aviles.com.Thank you so much for reading With love,
Donna Aviles