Nadia Benyahya (Madrid, 1984) is a journalist, but one day she decided to change the editorial office for some paintbrushes. Like Kerouac, this Madrileña with an irresistible surname is only interested in people that are crazy for living, for talking, for saving themselves, people yearning for everything at the same time. That madness that keeps us sane is her work’s protagonist. Nadia is fireproof, inexhaustible. Instinct is her science, she is always in search of that second that just passed, creating the frames of a fire. How could her paintings not look like a dirty verse by Joaquin Sabina in Sofia Coppola’s mouth? Wild and delicate at the same time, looking at her paintings is like receiving a strike of light in the middle of the stomach.