We voted on Sunday evening.
There was still a glimmer of hope — faint, but alive. A small gesture, a civic duty, but also a right.
A right that we women, above all, haven’t had for that long. And one we often take for granted.
This morning, reading the news, came the confirmation: with turnout around 20%, the quorum won’t be reached. Not this time either.
And that thought lingered, suspended between disappointment and helplessness.
My husband said: “I just can’t help feeling disappointed and disheartened.”
And I feel the same.
How did we get to this point?
How is it possible that so many give up the only tool of direct democracy we have?
Is it disinterest, fatigue, distrust?
Or simply the deep-rooted idea that it doesn’t change anything?
I don’t have answers.
But today, I feel poorer.
Because when we lose the will to choose, we lose a piece of our freedom.
And freedom, over time, forgets those who don’t exercise it.
It’s like draining the color from a painting meant to speak to the world: the form remains, but the soul fades.
And that “WHY?” — silently screaming from behind the bars — keeps echoing inside me.
As long as we ignore it, that why will remain suspended. And with it, so will we.
About me – I am an artist who believes that color, like freedom, must be protected.
