Natalia Corazza

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La Tormenta


charcoal on paper


Part I.

If you were to follow yourself everywhere you go, you might find yourself walking up a rocky path followed by stranger cats and their glowing eyes. You might find yourself on the shoreline watching the sand fall into a gaping crevice as the sky turns a bludgeoned red. You might find yourself swimming through shallow waters as your silver tail wicks droplets across the shimmering surface, or plunging beak first from the hot sun down towards Earth.


If you were to follow yourself everywhere you go, you might find yourself naked on a crowded hill or vomiting in an empty hallway. You might find that you are nothing but an empty sanddollar to be stored into a collection of homeless items, or a book on the ground waiting for your pages to be flipped through by sweaty fingers. You might find yourself gasping for air as the ocean waves lick you hair, or you might find yourself rolling your eyes back as you search for the will to keep them open.


And as you find the strength to force them open, you will find yourself tangled in your bed sheets blinking in efforts to recollect all of what you have just lived and lost.

Part II.

I have been scavenging my dreams for images and items that seem to bring me meaning. While I’d love to believe that these things do hold meaning; that there’s an inexplicable driving force behind the random and spontaneous curation of fantasy and narrative within the sleeping mind, it is highly unlikely that it actually exists.


Ultimately, the act of making these drawings and paintings is a self-inverted motion of love-making to my own subconscious. All of my works are self portraits and whether there is a story behind each image, or a dream, it doesn’t matter because all my dreams are nothing but reconfigurations of the benign from the day before my sleep.


My images are my lovers and my method to prolong the pleasures I gain from sleeping in the comforts of a warm bed and watching the undirected and lustful, painful and eager pictures that move behind my closed lids.

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Portal 11:04am


graphite on paper



Little Woman (Daydreaming)


oil on canvas