Virginia Woolf put it so well: we need a room of our own in order to write. Her ‘room’ is a metaphor for spaces – both social and physical – in the context of a society where it was still almost impossible for a woman to receive an education, let alone to write or be independent.

Such spaces are still needed today. The physical space in which to write, the mental space where we allow ourselves to be artists when society demands we produce, and financial independence. It is not enough to dream. I believe that art is innate to every human being, but the concept of and regard for art in our society remain peculiar. We revere famous artists – renowned visual artists, singers who perform to thousands of fans, or Hollywood actors – but at school there is little space dedicated to art, as if drawing were less important than learning geography. In my nine years of compulsory education, I had two years of Music, I didn’t learn to play any instrument, and the only dances I remember dancing were the folk dances we performed at the end-of-year school show.

We tend to view the artist as an eccentric, but I believe there is also a certain envy of the freedom we imagine the artist to possess, as well as admiration. There is someone who isn’t stuck in the morning traffic, who probably has no set timetable and doesn’t follow the rules, but above all, there is a free spirit.

The greatest space I have allowed myself this year is the space to explore, which may include success, but also failure. I am going to embark on two major literary projects, with no deadlines. I don’t know where they will take me, but I feel that the journey itself will change my life.

Translated from Portuguese with DeepL.com (free version)