« I paint. For years, since I was a girl, since I was different from how I am now, for as long as I have been constructing this that I am, this that I paint.
To me, this painting I draw out of my house, my atelier, this painting I hang in front of people, is not my clothes.
Not even my skin or my head.
My painting is me and this sounds so simple that I don’t know if I should say it.
But I must say it so that it is understood why I cannot talk about my painting.
It would be like standing in front of people to talk about myself and that task would take me another 34 years with their days and nights and one never quite knows some days and let us not speak of dreams.
Also, it would be another trade.
Also, there is modesty.
Also, my painting hangs from walls, from ceilings.
When one is confident, modesty fades.
My name is Josefina Robirosa. I am Josefina Robirosa.
My painting is called like me.
I am that painting and God helps me ».