I have all these feelings inside; I paint to express them, to share them, to free myself from some of them. I began drawing when I was 15, not as a hobby but as a need and, in a way, if I look back, I realize that I probably started painting to get a better understanding of myself. In my early 20s, I decided to become a doctor and I stopped drawing. It was something very clear to me, something I couldn’t even question: taking care of others will be my goal. In 2017, I finished my Ph.D., a new beginning. But still, I continued to study in order to gain new qualifications be-cause I felt like my practice as a doctor was lacking the kind of holistic approach I was looking for in the treatment of my patients. So, I became a doctor who also specializes in osteopathy, hypnosis and auriculotherapy to especially treat patients suffering from long-term pain. These few years felt good. Until March 2020 and the Covid-19 outbreak. I worked every day from March to July, without the proper gowns, masks or gloves, with the daily contradictory injunc-tions and the fear, the curfew, and finally with the hysteria spreading throughout the whole soci-ety. I lost my faith in humanity during that time. I saw the way people were acting, attacking each other for such small things, showing the hideous face of individuality. I experienced that same burn out I had witnessed before with so many patients and I did believe that I was about to sink into an abyss filled with rage, sluggishness and the desire to flee. But you cannot easily escape a life you have been building for nearly 15 years so I looked for a way to heal. I began drawing again. Until a few months ago, I didn’t want to display my work but I somehow felt the urge to draw every day and a desire began to grow inside of me, the desire to know how my work would be understood by others.