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Apologies to Alex and her fans: Because of questionable ratings that have limited her audience, I have been forced to eliminate certain references from Alex's narration on her work. I hope that this means more people will visit this page and everyone will still enjoy her expression in oils with these few textual differences.

Alejandra, or "Alex" as I affectionately call her, has impressed me with her immediate interpersonal perceptions and her openness, which was responsible for my seeing her work so soon after meeting her. We also met at Kramerbooks, where despite an otherwise socially hectic atmosphere she was able to remind me of my human obligation to catalyze with the creative ferment of others rather than steep solitarily in my own selfish musings.

It did not stop there: Once I was shown her work, even in that same environment which is hardly a gallery despite all that hangs on the walls and where concentration is hard to maintain, a striking capability for "seeing with another set of eyes" emerged clearly from these images that were a different twist on what one might see every day if endowed with the talent to see the heart -- rather than the complexion -- of our emotional reality.

This is her interpretation of what she presents . . .

These eyes of mine have seen all, or perhaps not necessarily -- I know that my body is young, and yet I feel that 2 million years have passed me. My influences are God & Humanity, yet sometimes for a lesser mind this is something obscure. Through my years I've always had to struggle with the seal with which all living painters have to work (lack of profit).
I have the most respect for the Old Masters and I fully appreciate their stories of anguish, the heights of their accomplishments and their occasionally tragic episodes, but just as they struggled with their lives and their traditional society, so do we now in the 20th century. It's quite evident that life goes in cycles, and that history repeats itself. All I can say is wake up world! I am Alejandra Duque of today, just as O'Keefe and Monet were of yesterday.

Allow me to provide you with the images that come from the creative depths, from Jung's raw negrido, and for at least one brief moment, let us feel awake and be free of limitations. Welcome to Our World -- our nature is filled with irony. We choose to always overlook the good that comes from our own nature -- always so afraid of our dark side, we tend to criticize and judge those who express the somber side of our inclinations. Take the man in the grey flannel suit for example, who is so proper in his words and so refined in his actions; who knows with which fork to eat his meat and who has learned not to rest his elbows on the table -- but behind closed doors he picks his nose and engages in such revolting and disgusting acts that they are not described here. Would anyone admit to doing these things? Not likely.

Is anyone going to admit that they like to be dominated, that they like to be spanked once in a while? That they secretly desire to watch their spouse enjoy attentions of another? That they contemplate how intrusion of their most private places may feel? Is anyone going to admit that they want to be caressed and stimulated in various and sundry socially unacceptable ways? That they can all so easily become obsessed with someone? That they worship the ground upon which their beloved walks? Would you be willing to give up your best friends and yourself for the one that you love? Are you willing to beg someone on your hands and knees in a way that should be reserved for divinity?

In this sense, we are all little demons hoping that one day we can reach heaven. In the meantime, the swirl of darkness wraps us like some security blanket. These are the reasons for which I will continue to paint that which others dare not feel, the motivation by which I will graphically demonstrate that of which these timid ones will not even speak.

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