The logo-image of La Foresta is changing with every season as the real forest does. Every new spring, summer, autumn and winter it celebrates changing seasons of nature and of our lives. As snow melts away, as buds turn into leaves, as leaves start to change colour, as they fly away with the wind, as new buds are born - at the turn of each season we invite a different artist to create a portrait of La Foresta in summer, autumn, spring or winter. Each creator's image will represent La Foresta online for three months and later will become part of the permanent Museum of Seasons. During these three months Visual Strolls becomes an online gallery, a visual viewing room, exhibiting the work of the invited artist. 

This AUTUMN we are showcasing the work of Violeta Lopiz. Violeta is an artist, book-maker, illustrator and educator. Her work evolves around continuous and joyous experimentation and exploration of such topics as human nature, the cycles of the creative processes, the connection to nature. She is working with a wide variety of media, including animation. It's a first time in La Foresta's history that the seasonal portrait is an image in motion. Join us in dancing to the tune of falling leaves and have a stroll through a selection of some of our favourite works of Violeta in the gallery below. 

 

"La foresta me llama, me ha llamado siempre,  pero a veces no la escucho. A veces estoy demasiado ocupada en hacer ilustraciones. Hacer ilustraciones no debería ser la razón por la que no escucho a la foresta, y me pregunto: 
¿Qué es lo que me hace dejar de escuchar la foresta? La inseguridad, la competitividad, el prestigio, la expectativas, las mías y las ajenas, el miedo a equivocarme, el miedo al olvido, el miedo a no ser aceptada, a no ser parte de la tribu, de mi familia, el ego, la envidia, la prisa, la rigidez, estar sentada en una silla durante días, la pereza, la cabeza, no respirar, dejar de cantar, no bailar, no decir lo que siento, no creer en mi propia naturaleza, ni creer que mis brazos me sujetan, ni que mis piernas puedan saltar al otro lado del río, ignorar mi instinto, controlar, controlar con la razón, con las palabras, manipular, atar, ser egoista, temer el futuro, temer mi muerte y la de los otros, no dejarme llevar por el río, sentirme superior, sentirme inferior, juzgarme, juzgar…
Cuando me llama la foresta, en realidad lo que me llama es mi propio cuerpo. Lo escucho muy sutilmente porque el pensamiento habla demasiado alto. El cuerpo, la foresta, me habla con el movimiento, me habla con la respiración, las hormonas, los sentidos, diría que mas que hablarme lo que hace es cantarme o bailarme. El pensamiento necesita mi cerebro, la memoria, las palabras y unas cuantas neuronas espejo. 
Cuando estoy en la foresta, es decir, cuando habito mi cuerpo, no tengo ninguna duda, estoy en el lugar justo y lo sé.  Entonces mi pensamiento se da cuenta, y se calla un rato. Lo que me pasa en esos momentos no puedo explicarlo con palabras por eso es mejor que baile, cante, abrace, llore, salte el río, ría o haga ilustraciones." 

— Violeta Lopiz


"The forest calls me. It has always called me, but sometimes I do not listen. Sometimes I'm too busy making illustrations. Making illustrations should not be the reason not to listen to the forest, and I wonder: What is it that makes me stop listening to the forest? Insecurity, competitiveness, prestige, expectations, my own and those of others, fear of making mistakes, fear of oblivion, fear of not being accepted, not being part of the tribe, of my family, the ego, envy, haste, rigidity, sitting in a chair for days, laziness, the head, not breathing, stopping to singing, not dancing, not saying what I feel, not believing in my own nature, or not believing that my arms will hold me, or that my legs can jump across the river, to ignore my instinct, to control, to control with reason, with words, to manipulate, to bind, to be selfish, to fear the future, to fear my own death and that of others, not to let myself be taken by the river, to feel superior, to feel inferior, to judge myself, to judge… ? When the forest calls me, what really calls me is my own body. I hear it very subtly because the thoughts are too loud. The body, the forest, speaks to me with the movement, it speaks to me with the breath, the hormones, the senses. I would say that rather than speaking to me what it does is singing to me or dancing to me. The thoughts need my brain, my memory, words and a few mirror neurons. When I am in the forest, that is, when I inhabit my body, I have no doubt I am in the right place and I know it. That’s when my thoughts realize it and stay silent for a while. What happens to me in those moments I can not explain in words, this is why it is better to dance, sing, hug, cry, jump into the river, laugh or make illustrations."

— Violeta Lopiz