This painting holds a profound meaning for me. During that time, I spent a lot of hours in the bathroom of my first house in Florence, which had these really dull, muted green tiles that made the environment even more overwhelming to me. Bathrooms are special and private spaces where you can purify and cleanse yourself in the shower, sing, cry, vomit, dance, or do whatever you want without anyone watching you. I would lock myself inside, feeling depressed and experiencing the stark contrast between the harsh shapes of the walls and my delicate skin that seemed to crumble every time I looked in the mirror.

I could feel the energy of that washing machine in the corner, which only sprang into action when I commanded it, much like my emotions that were switched off and unplugged. I was attempting to understand my self.