Thousand pieces.

One year ago I was flying to India for the first time. I have talked about my experiences there before so I won’t say too much about it. I am just going to say this: after the trip I was reborn.

After spending three months in Pune I went to Paris for some weeks to see my lovely friend Rebeca. I also met my precious mother there.

Being with such beautiful companions, I don´t know how I ended up one evening at Centre Pompidou, just by myself.

Paris – Delhi –Bombay” was the name of this exhibition made mainly for indian artists “talking” about India. Being there seeing all this amazing pieces of art just added more overwhelmness to my already overwhelmed spirit.

And that day I saw this painting. And I saw myself on it.

I still do.



For me, yoga practice is about questioning myself, all the time: Who am I?

And it´s about trying to answer the question with courage and honesty. At the beginning of my practice, all type of answers started to came out, one by one, from outside in. During these years, the practice –and the question- have been going deeper and deeper.

I don´t have an answer.

And I feel more lost than ever but it does not matter at all.

When the pain finally goes away, feeling yourself as a broken human being is a gift because, behind this new empty space, something sacred is about to be born.

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