Buenos Aires, 1975.

The beginning stages of my calling were mainly academic and western-based, 
but most of my training and the spirit of my work are tied to Zen and Eastern arts.
 
I began my journey through the plastic arts at an early age with extracurricular teachers and a professorship in drawing and painting with Ana María Petrolo. After graduating eight years later, I yearned for a format outside academia and found Miguel Piraíno - disciple of Demetrio Urruchúa - who inherited his master’s teaching methodology, straying from orthodox means. Miguel helped me grow in drawing and painting and introduced me to film art, music, and poetry.
 
During that time, I also started frequenting the Buddhist temple in Belgrano neighborhood in Buenos Aires. In our weekly gatherings, Br. Anthony shared with us the teachings of the Dhammapada and other sacred texts; we engaged in practices, and this is how meditation gradually became a part of my daily life. 
 
Meanwhile, I was doing a Bachelor’s degree of Theory and History of Art at the University of Buenos Aires (where I discovered the power of pre-Columbian cultures and the art of the origins) and participated in eastern art classes of the Eastern Studies major of El Salvador, taught by Luisa Rossell. Thus, I came to know not only other formal aesthetic concepts, but also different driving essences linked to the sacred - the whys and wherefores of artistic expression, whether anonymous or collective. And, guided by some colleagues to explore the landscapes of these new lands, my musical universe expanded: shakuhachi, bansuri, didgeridoo, drums, and traditional and contemporary instruments with rhythms and structures new to me, began to provide another intangible framework to the images of my world.
My persistent search for the way of doing things- the how - and the connection I have always felt between artistic creation and spiritual development led me to my Sensei Ho Getsu, who trained me for eight years in Zenga (Zen painting). He also initiated me in Sho do (Japanese calligraphy), Bonsai art, and the principles of acupressure. 
After his death and without a direct pictorial reference of his caliber, I sought to immerse myself in other Zen arts: I practiced Ikebana at the Ikenobo school with Felisa Sakata, and Raku ceramics with Ana Dubilet. I also ventured into several crafts such as carpentry in the Artetra workshop, and ironworks with Claudio Echevarria. Currently I am perfecting my technique in ceramic technique in Carlos Barrientos’ workshop (Uruguay).
Just as creating-artistic expression-has been a part of me for as long as I can remember, “botany” has also been a constant in my life. The love for plants and the capturing of their intricate beauty was instilled in me by my mother and was a common topic of conversation in my grandmother’s home. With Jorge, the father of one of my most intimate friends, we spent long afternoons either exchanging roots or having rich conversations regarding plant life (so much so that he nicknamed me “Green”). 
In my thirties, I studied General Gardening in the Agronomists Circle of Buenos Aires. I attended workshops on Native Plants at the Rivera Norte Association and other specific workshops -orchids, herbaceous, mushrooms, etc- at different schools in Argentina and Uruguay. In this journey I also made several friends, one of which, Hideyo, taught me Kokedama art. Slowly I ventured into the healing aspect of plant life, and I did a Patagonian Medicinal Plant training program and a course on sacred floral elixirs and mythology, from Eloisa Castellanos. I continue actively learning from her master classes and courses at Santa Hildegardis School. Under her guidance, I discovered the subtle and profound power of the plant and mineral world, and the possibility it offers for self- awareness and healing through the qualities and energetic vibration of essences. Through their international education programs in floral therapy, I also continued enriching my perspective with Bach Flower system.
From a very young age I have participated in both individual and collective exhibitions in Argentina: at private galleries (Núcleo de Arte, Tokyo art Gallery, and others), cultural spaces (Japanese Garden, José Hernández Museum, Cafe Tortoni, Plaza Defensa Habitat Cultural, La Dama de Bollini, etc.) and at La otra Banda gallery in Merida, Venezuela. On various occasions I was sponsored by the Ministry of Culture of Buenos Aires city and by the Venezuelan embassy of Argentina. 
As far as my teaching background, I taught Zen painting classes at the School of Art and design at the University of the Andes, Venezuela. In Argentina, before having my first child I gave private drawing and painting classes, as well as theoretical talks at corporate settings.
I worked in cultural management for 16 years as a founder and director of Puntos, later renamed LBA art tours. I hired and led a team of six guides, and together we opened the doors to galleries, museums, and workshops -all the way from young talents to prestigious artists- for tourists interested in Argentine art, human contact, and a genuine experience. 
Among other interests, in 2017 I began studying the Bansuri – a bamboo transverse flute of Indian origin – and in recent years I have delved into ancient music (medieval and Renaissance) under the guidance of Rubén Soifer. Currently, I am deepening my connection with Shakuhachi and the spiritual practice it entails.
I feel profound gratitude for each one of my teachers, who generously showed and taught me to see different landscapes on my path. In the stretch I am presently traversing, the spiritual encounter with Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh has been pivotal. Through his books, talks and the wonderful community he created, I receive knowledge that helps sustain my being in the world, knowing with certainty that the construction of an alternate reality is possible. 

 
 
As much as technical mastery, a vital part of the practice is the embodiment of impermanence and the exercise of detachment. And above all, the awareness that the artwork is oneself. In Zenga, the practice sheets are discarded after the session or created only with water, without ink; in calligraphy, practice is done in sand. 
What´s learned should reside within oneself.
Just like my Sensei used to tell me: “All this is aimed towards making you a better person, a better human being. If this is not the true purpose of the practice, then what is it? 
Learning to see, to give, to refine oneself, to become subtle in order to resonate with others and with the other  and to live with the awareness of being an ocean in connection with totality.

S.F.