Hyuro doesn´t paint on the streets.
I am not interested to know about her origins, nor when she was born … I do not care where she comes from, let alone where she goes. The interesting thing from Hyuro is Hyuro, here and now. Everything else will always come over.
Her work is intimate and very personal. Her universe, disturbing and seductive. Her language is honest and forthcoming. Her head are her hands and her paintings a gift for the streets of the city.
In her work, Hyuro, does not speak about her… talks to her. Uses the wall as a mirror in which constantly seeks and is, in this process, that painting rescues the echo of that conversation with herself.
As we approached, we found the attraction of who finds an open window. Hyuro give us this gift with painting every wall, allowing us to know a little more of her and, above all, a little more of ourselves.
In this act of recognition, we are confronted with the evidence that wildness is a primary state in which all are equal. The characters we see on the walls is anyone and are each one of us … women, wolves, children, lovers …. others. Yes, the others ones.
Hyuro doesn´t paint on the street. Hyuro talks to the street. And she does it with such respect and affection, which are the others who, as we approached, we paint the walls that she just whispers …
Silence ….walls….still have a lot to say.