by Mauricio Vallejo Márquez
A hand emerges from a leg. The moon is dissolved in the canvas. All women have the same face. Those were the prints of painting with which I was deeply attracted, the author: Salvador Dalí. Dalí was intense and creative, sometimes too bold, but captivating. While Surrealism was something I did not understand me away fascinated and even Picasso, but with some respect. Now I change surrealism reveals, litearios authors of this school was for my teenage years, these days spend more time classics as I once said Don Ricardo Lindo and as he once said Borges.
By going to grow some facial hair on my favorite painter was Monett, who with their images look diluted and drabs shortsighted attempts to show a reality that we live many who cross the border than 0.5 of myopia or astigmatism. Monett and clear that impressed me was his school. The faces just perceived as a delicate stain shyly took the place of a young girl, a girl or a lily, but being more eternal than a plain old picture. However
a painter leaves me with a great and deep curiosity is Mark Chagall who shows a reality that could be better known, although only in the eyes of those who have gone through life hiding their names, their race, religion ... Chagall, who left Russia for France and then left France for Russia to live well, knowing that their true nation was in his blood. And yet like the millions in diaspora him against his chest still cherishes that legacy undeniable that many holding hands every day, sometimes without knowing it and other insurance as Chagal eyes when he saw this:
Mauricio Vallejo Márquez, Salvadoran writer. Learn their itinerary and their works. 
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