Interview: Sonia J
Luca Curci talks with Sonia J, WINNER of the ARTIST OF THE MONTH Competition.

Sonai J. is a Portuguese contemporary artist whose practice emerged from a profound personal transformation. After more than thirty years as a CEO in the technology sector, she left a high-performance life to reclaim her inner voice through painting. With a background in Economics and early roots in music, creativity has always been part of her. Her work, grounded in Autobiographical and Emotional Abstraction, explores feminine resilience, memory, inner conflict, and transformation through bold gestures, deep textures, and chromatic tension. Recently relocating from Lisbon to Serra da Estrela brought nature, solitude, and renewal into her work, visible in series such as her Spring Collection. She approaches painting as an act of revelation, where intuition, layered surfaces, and “balanced chaos” transform lived experience into emotional topography. She paints until the canvas holds an emotional truth, creating psychological terrains and landscapes of internal weather, inviting viewers into the private space between rupture and renewal.

Luca Curci – What is the trigger that leads you to paint?
Sonia J – The trigger that leads me to paint is not a simple moment of inspiration – it is the result of a profound rupture in my life. After more than thirty years working as a CEO in the technology industry, navigating boardrooms and building companies, I reached exhaustion. My life had been defined by structure, deadlines, and performance. I had succeeded in a world largely dominated by male leadership, carrying immense responsibility. Art had always lived quietly within me – in childhood music, imagination, and creation – yet I had chosen a path of logic, leadership, and control. In 2024, I made a courageous decision to step away from that life and reclaim the parts of myself I had left behind. Painting emerged not as a hobby, but as an act of survival. I quickly understood that what I needed was not representation, but expression. Gesture replaced language, color replaced narrative, and silence became movement. My work is rooted in Autobiographical Abstraction – personal, embodied, and deeply emotional. Each canvas becomes a territory where I confront what I once suppressed and turn it into strength, form, and presence. I often describe my process as balanced chaos, moving between intuition and decision, impulse and control, allowing violence and tenderness to meet on the same surface. Painting is my act of liberation, defiance, and feminine reclamation – a way to exist beyond titles, achievements, and roles, to confront internal unrest, and to embody truth. Today, painting is my way of returning to myself and moving forward. It is both past and future, a trace of what I endured and a portal to what I am becoming. I paint because I have something to say – and finally, I have found a language that does not silence my inner “me.”

LC – Which artists have somehow influenced your work?
SJ – My influences are not defined by stylistic imitation but by a lineage of emotional courage – artists who dared to confront their inner worlds without compromise. I am connected to those who navigated the territory where abstraction becomes autobiography, where gesture becomes confession. It is within this context – Abstract Expressionism, Neo-Expressionism, and the feminist redefinition of both – that I locate my practice. In Joan Mitchell, I find an emotional ferocity that speaks to my own experience. Her paintings were battles – visceral, unfiltered, unapologetic. Mitchell taught me that abstraction could hold rage, grief, longing, and release all at once. From Lee Krasner, I inherited the lesson of self-reinvention and fragmentation. She continuously dismantled and reconstructed herself – cutting, collaging, refusing finality. She showed me that destruction can be a prelude to transformation. Jackson Pollock represents the abandonment of control, his willingness to surrender to instinct. Through him, I learned that vulnerability lies not in weakness, but in relinquishing the illusion of control. Helen Frankenthaler taught me about permeability – how color can breathe, how form can dissolve. Her quiet rebellion – to trust matter without forcing it – shaped my approach. Louise Bourgeois gave me memory, trauma, and the permission to confront pain as material. Her work embodied psychological conflict – power and fragility, responsibility and vulnerability. What unites these artists is not style, but integrity. They did not paint to please; they painted to survive. I inherit their urgency, bringing my own life, burnout, leadership, silence, feminine rebellion – into abstraction. My path diverges in one way: I arrive at painting after a life in the corporate world. For decades, I navigated power, performance, and responsibility. I learned to suppress softness, to armor vulnerability. When I broke away, it was an existential rupture. Abstraction became a reclamation of voice. I paint in what I call balanced chaos – dialogue between order and release, discipline and instinct. Each layer negotiates between the woman I was required to be and the woman I now choose to be. My influences are interlocutors, not idols. I do not paint nature, gesture, or concept – I paint conflict, memory, and release. I stand at a confluence: Abstract Expressionism’s ferocity, Neo-Expressionism’s individualism, and feminist art’s reclamation of the personal. My abstraction is tethered to identity. Ultimately, the artists who influence me understood that art is not a product – it is a life sentence. They permitted me to paint not what I see, but what I cannot escape. I carry their courage as a compass – not to follow, but to face myself fully. That, to me, is influence: not inheritance, but ignition.

LC – What issues do you intend to deal with in the future?
SJ – In my future work, I will continue to explore the psychological landscape of the feminine self, with a broadened awareness – not only of internal worlds, but of the environments that shape transformation. My artistic path is rooted in identity, ancestry, inner conflict, and emotional rebirth, and I now feel compelled to investigate feminine consciousness as collective inheritance – how women carry unspoken histories, how silence becomes lineage, and how abstraction can serve as a language for what has never been verbalized. I am drawn to the dualities that define the feminine experience: serenity versus chaos, power versus fragility, silence versus catharsis. After leaving Lisbon, I relocated to Serra da Estrela, the inner heart of Portugal, where landscapes mirrored my internal process – vast silence, mountains grounded in memory, skies that shift, and the presence of snow and water, elements capable of cleansing and erasing. The winters, with their white silence, felt like rituals of purification. This transition has influenced the direction of my artistic research. I now integrate land with psyche, allowing nature as a metaphor – a mirror to the internal feminine journey. Mountains represent endurance, cliffs hold memory, and snowfall symbolizes the erasure of past narratives. This evolution is visible in works such as “Pink Cliffs” and “My Sunflowers,” presented at the 5th Edition of Barcelona Contemporary Art. “Pink Cliffs” meditates on strength and erosion, reflecting the feminine condition: resilient yet scarred. “My Sunflowers” symbolizes regeneration, echoing nature’s ability to seek light after buried winters, representing stoic optimism. In the future, I will merge psychological excavation with environmental immersion, questioning how place reshapes identity, how solitude alters inner dialogue, and how nature witnesses transformation. I am interested in abstraction as a space where landscapes and emotions coexist without explanation – where cliffs become memory, snow becomes forgetting, and sky becomes hope. Ultimately, I aim to redefine abstraction not as the absence of form, but as the presence of life, where biography and territory, psyche and nature, woman and world become indistinguishable.

LC – Is there an unrealised or even ‘crazy’ project you would like to pursue?
SJ – Yes, I carry a vision that is both deeply personal and ambitiously large in scale – a project that I often refer to as a “Chapel of Emotional Abstraction.” It is not a traditional place of worship, but a contemplative architectural space where painting, memory, and inner transformation converge. Rather than being observed like conventional gallery works, my paintings would be experienced physically – surrounding the viewer, confronting them, embracing them. I imagine monumental canvases rising like walls of psychological terrain, where textures act like scars, gestures become echoes, and silence is felt as profoundly as color. This dream stems from my conviction that abstraction, when rooted in lived experience, possesses a sacred dimension. I want to create an environment that honors feminine remembrance, emotional inheritance, and inner rupture – a sanctuary where viewers can confront their own unspoken narratives. It would not be a museum, nor a church, but something in between: a space where vulnerability is dignified and emotional complexity is legitimized. In this project, I envision large-format paintings – immersive and towering – installed within a purpose-built structure or an abandoned architectural site, perhaps an old monastery, industrial ruin, or stone chapel. Each section would explore different polarities of the feminine condition: power and fragility, silence and catharsis, chaos and serenity. The experience would unfold like a journey – from constriction to release, from introspection to transcendence. Light, space, and sound would be integral elements. I imagine soft natural light filtering onto heavily textured surfaces, revealing cracks, scars, and layers that echo the human psyche. Perhaps there would be moments of near-darkness, where only the tactile presence of paint guides perception. No words, no explanations – only immersion. This vision is also a continuation of my own trajectory: after thirty years in corporate structures, I seek to create a structure of a different kind – not one of performance or hierarchy, but of interiority and healing. A place where art becomes a ritual of self-encounter. It may seem impossible, even utopian – but it is precisely in this impossible scale that I recognize my truth. I am not interested in producing only paintings; I want to build worlds. And one day, I will walk into that space – not as an executive or an artist, but simply as a woman who dared to turn her inner landscape into architecture.

LC – What is the most challenging part about creating your artwork?
SJ – The most challenging part of creating my artwork is confronting truth – not an external truth, but an internal one. My process is emotionally exposed, and every layer I apply forces me to face aspects of myself I cannot hide behind words or roles. Painting is not a technical exercise; it is an act of radical honesty, requiring me to move beyond aesthetics and enter a space where instinct leads and control is surrendered. It is a constant negotiation between freedom and discipline, chaos and composition, risk and restraint. To paint in the way I do – rooted in emotional abstraction and autobiographical truth – I must allow memories, conflicts, and vulnerabilities to surface. The real challenge is not how to begin, but how to remain honest throughout the process. Each gesture must come from authenticity; if I paint for effect, beauty, or approval, the canvas rejects it. Painting becomes a psychological terrain where I constantly ask: Am I hiding, or am I revealing? One of the most difficult stages is knowing when a painting is complete. I do not finish by analyzing composition or technique, but when I can “see” myself in it – when it holds an emotional resonance that is undeniably mine. Completion is visceral; I must feel it in my body. Sometimes, this moment arrives suddenly; other times, it requires erasing, scraping, or even destroying parts of the painting I thought were resolved. That act – to ruin what is comfortable for the sake of honesty – is the core challenge. Painting is a mirror that does not lie. It reveals what I express and what I avoid. The canvas sees through me, demanding sincerity, and yet offering liberation once I cross that threshold. Ultimately, the greatest challenge is allowing myself to be fully seen – by the canvas, and therefore by myself. When the painting becomes whole, it is not perfect, but true, holding emotion, memory, and the pulse of something deeply human.

LC – Has the artwork presented been created specifically for this exhibition, or is it part of pre-existing work?
SJ – The works I am presenting are part of an ongoing body of work rooted in autobiographical abstraction. They were not created exclusively for this exhibition, but they belong to a continuous and deeply personal narrative of transformation – a visual diary that documents my transition from a life structured by urban intensity to one shaped by natural vastness and emotional release. These pieces belong specifically to my Spring Collection, a pivotal chapter in my artistic evolution. This collection marks the moment I left Lisbon – the concrete city where I lived and worked for over thirty years – and relocated to Serra da Estrela, a landscape defined by mountains, flora, pure waters, and winter snow. This geographical and existential migration is embedded in the language of these works. It represents a shift from rigidity to breath, from confinement to expansion. In this series, bold colors and aggressive brush movements replace restraint. My gestures became more instinctive, more improvisational, as if I were relearning how to speak – not in words, but in pure emotional frequency. The palettes evolved from muted urban tones to vibrant chromatic tensions, reflecting both rupture and renewal. I embraced intensity – not as chaos, but as liberation. The raw energy in these works mirrors the internal upheaval of abandoning a structured, corporate existence and surrendering to the unknown rhythm of nature.
Each piece carries echoes of departure and arrival. The vertical tensions, textured layers, and moments of rupture speak not only to external landscapes but to internal reconfiguration. They are not landscapes, yet they carry the memory of place – not through depiction, but through sensation. In them, there is the memory of Lisbon’s pressure and Serra da Estrela’s silence; the echo of concrete and the breath of wind.
So while these works were not created for one specific exhibition, they belong to a larger journey – one that is ongoing. Each painting stands alone, but they are all fragments of the same metamorphosis. They document a woman in the act of reclaiming her own life – through gesture, through color, and through courage.

LC – Do you agree with our vision of art, and what do you think about the theme of the exhibition?
SJ – I strongly resonate with ITSLIQUID’s vision of art – one that goes beyond surface aesthetics and engages with the deeper layers of human experience. In an art world that can often prioritize trends, spectacle, or conceptual detachment, I deeply value your commitment to works that reflect transformation, identity, and inner truth. This alignment is essential to my practice, which is rooted in autobiographical abstraction and the exploration of psychological territories through gesture, material, and emotion. What strikes me most about your platform is the space you give to emerging and independent voices, especially artists who work from a place of purpose rather than convention. ITSLIQUID does not simply host exhibitions; it creates dialogues – between artists, viewers, and the unseen narratives that live beneath the visible. I sense a genuine desire to present art that confronts, reveals, and resonates, rather than art that simply decorates or conforms. The theme of this exhibition is especially relevant to our time. We are living in an age where authenticity has become not only a desire but a necessity. Audiences today are seeking art that speaks to lived experience – to the complexity of identity, memory, trauma, and rebirth. Your curation seems to honor these deeper currents, inviting artists who do not use abstraction to hide, but to reveal hidden truths – to translate the unspeakable through texture, movement, and space. In this sense, I feel that ITSLIQUID stands apart. You do not treat art as a commodity, but as a living testimony – something that emerges from the interior life of the artist and reaches the emotional life of the viewer. This approach is vital, particularly for those of us who work with emotional intensity and inner conflict. It affirms that vulnerability has value, that sincerity has strength, and that contemporary art still holds the power to transform human understanding. For me, this exhibition is not only an opportunity to present work, but to participate in a collective affirmation: that art must remain connected to the body, to memory, and to the psychological landscapes we all carry. I believe your platform helps ensure that these conversations continue – boldly, openly, and with integrity.

LC – What is your idea about ITSLIQUID GROUP?
SJ – In my view, ITSLIQUID GROUP plays a pivotal role in today’s contemporary art landscape, particularly in its dedication to promoting voices that are introspective, daring, and emotionally driven. What distinguishes ITSLIQUID is not merely its international presence, but its sensitivity to the artists themselves – to their journeys, internal narratives, and unconventional languages. It is a platform that does not impose a singular aesthetic or trend, but instead embraces diversity in expression, from conceptual experimentation to deeply personal and autobiographical practices. I see ITSLIQUID as an important intersection between emerging and established artists. It acts as a bridge – connecting geographical and cultural distances, while creating a global dialogue grounded in authenticity. This openness to varied artistic languages reflects an understanding that contemporary art today is not defined by form, but by intention. Whether the work is gestural, figurative, conceptual, or performative, what matters is its ability to resonate, question, and provoke inner reflection. What I appreciate most is the group’s commitment to art as a form of human encounter – not just a market or exhibition activity. ITSLIQUID provides space for artists whose work may not fit easily into commercial frameworks, but who speak from emotional necessity, from memory, from rupture. By showcasing such practices, it reinforces a crucial message: that art remains one of the few places where vulnerability and vision can coexist without explanation. In a world that often prioritizes speed and visibility over depth and purpose, ITSLIQUID stands for something essential – a belief that true artistic relevance emerges from sincerity, courage, and the freedom to explore one’s inner landscape. For artists like myself, who see creation as a form of psychological and existential inquiry, this kind of platform plays a fundamental role in my artistic journey.