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I'm glad you noticed me. Actually, seeing someone drinking coffee has become so commonplace that I doubted anyone would notice a self-portrait like this one, although for me, capturing my reality at that moment was something very special.
Most likely you have never heard of me, but my story is much more complex than that of an artist who makes paintings. In fact, I don't consider myself an artist, and not out of false pride, but because I have made my living doing other things, somewhat more exciting, but also more dangerous.
No! please don't stop reading what I want to tell you. It's been so long since I've talked to anyone, that I would like you to hear (or better, read) everything I need you to know.
This painting has passed through several hands, but if you found this letter unsealed, it is because none of its previous owners had the delicacy to look at the back. So it also happens with people, many are delighted to see a good physique, and disregard its interior, although it may be much more beautiful and interesting than what you notice at first glance.
My name is not important, you can call me whatever you like. I lived for many years as a prisoner of my fears, inside a huge house, full of ghosts and loneliness, after the death of my parents, who, being coffee growers, taught me to love not only the resulting beverage, but the whole process, from the planting to the final result.
For some time now, coffee has been my salvation in my most difficult times, which have been many more than I would have liked to experience. And then, the painting, made with the coffee powder already used, developed in me a way of getting through the days...
I don't know how far this painting has gone. Its origin was in my home, located in Armenia, Colombia. Here I wait for you, in the hope that you will rescue me from the loneliness of this hacienda, where I was left alone, owner of a fortune that I cannot use and that I would like to share with whoever dares to love a woman in a wheelchair...
