Oil on canvas.
Love is like a bird flying, his freedom includes the whole sky.
We can imprison a bird, close it in a magnificent gilded cage, and seems to be the same bird that flew free and had the entire sky for him. It seems to be the same bird, but it is not: He is almost dead.
His wings were cut, we stole the sky. And the birds do not have interest in our gold, which is useless if we are in prison. And that’s what happens with our love, we create gilded cages…