I'm the kind of person that never learns from her mistakes; in fact this week I got my heart broken by the same guy for the third time. Maybe some of us learn slow, or maybe we don't want to accept the unbearable true of a forbidden impossible love. And after this (un)expected failure, waiting for my delayed flight at the airport, starving and tired, I decided to draw myself. And I realized that by drawing my own face I was projecting what I was feeling: this was my broken heart, my broken smile. I'll risk myself to say that every artist starts with a broken heart.