We are all one (The Way - 05/2025)

Every creative process is different. This time, there wasn’t that passionate struggle I usually love (it’s part of my nature—grand dramas, baroque intensity, deep passions), but there was struggle. Maybe struggle is part of my creative process, and perhaps we can’t exist without each other during creation. What’s important to note is that whether the struggle is passionate or not, I enjoy it when I’m doing something.

I often want to move too fast—I forget the power of breathing, of patience, and I get caught up in the pressure to produce, when sometimes the only thing I really need to do is pause and feel.

The entire creative process became a lesson: A lesson in trust and patience, in believing in myself and resisting the urge to create in a constant, mechanical flow. I had to fight against my ego, which longed for grand results and a monumental work that would transcend. Anxiety, ambition, and high expectations were paralyzing me, keeping me from seeing that the work was already right in front of me. I had to take a step back and remind myself of the power of simplicity. I had to realize that the answer was right there—that there was nothing more to do. Only to accept, to recognize, to allow, to trust.

Virtual Exhibition

Room 1

As you enter, the first thing you encounter is a room with very low lighting where you can listen to the audio. There is nothing else here - your full attention is focused on my words.

Text in the Audio

This week, I allow myself the luxury of not making decisions—though perhaps that, in itself, is already a decision.

Since I was a child, I’ve been afraid of the passage of time.

I’m afraid of losing everything. What is everything? Love, ending up on the street.

As a child, I also had an irrational fear of death. 

Sometimes I think they’re memories from another life, another existence. Maybe I’m still afraid of death, even if I try to convince myself I’m not. I try to understand death in order to overcome that fear. I like cemeteries because I find peace there. In cemeteries, I can also speak with my ancestors—no matter the cemetery, they are all there, because we are all one.

There is beauty in decay. Pride in having made it this far, against all odds.

Ambivalence.

There’s a part of me letting go of who I used to be. I’m facing the parts I didn’t like, a self who lived in submission, afraid of disappointing others. Afraid of not being loved, afraid of ending up alone. Maybe that fear turned me into someone I’m not. I’m taking off the costume that isn’t mine and, without fear, I want to wear the one I choose.

The ephemerality of life.
You wake up in the morning with a whole day ahead of you (like a blank canvas). And before you know it, it’s night again. And so the days go by, the weeks, the months, the years, the decades—and life slips away without us even noticing.

It’s not a complaint, nor do I feel like I’m wasting my life. I just wish time moved a little slower.

Maybe that’s why I take photos—it’s my way of trying to stop time, of trying to pause life.

And this leads me to wonder: Am I afraid of disappearing? No. I believe in reincarnation, I believe in what they call “between lives”. I know that someday we will meet again, and I know I’ll be safe.

Maybe that’s why I like going to the cemetery—I try to talk to them, to seek answers.

Passion, drama, baroque. There’s a part of me that adores all of it. Those vivid colors, those twisted bodies caught in impossible contortions. The white marble, the exaggerated dimensions.
Taking it all in overwhelms the senses. There’s a part of me that is like that. I used to show that part of myself. Then I stopped. Now it’s coming back—and I like it. Today I went out for a run, and while I was waiting at a traffic light, I started dancing. And I didn’t care if people looked at me or what they thought. My headphones helped me break through that fear. Like an ostrich.

Room 2

Once the audio ends, you can move forward to ROOM 2, where two screens play two videos of the creative process. Although there are more videos, I have selected only two.

Room 3

Next, in ROOM 3 you can see the original paintings and some detailed views. 

Click on the images for full view

Room 4

In ROOM 4, there are photographs of an installation of the paintings in nature, along with a few images from the work process.

Click on the images for full view

Room 5

To close, before leaving this virtual space, In ROOM 5, you can watch the final video—a farewell to this project.

Where did the dreams we once had go to? (The Way - 02/2024)

Where did innocence, madness, and recklessness disappear to?

Where did time vanish?

I dream of happiness, I dream of stopping time, I dream of slowing it down and catching it.

I dream of going back and (not) making the mistakes I once made.

I dream of regaining innocence, of losing fear. I dream of returning to spontaneity and forgetting prudence.

Reviewing the list of my dreams, I realize how happy I was and I am, despite things not unfolding as imagined.

There is a nostalgia about the past, about the innocence I had 20 years ago, when I believe everything was possible.

What do dreams smell like?

Some time ago, my dreams were superficial; over the years, I eliminat what’s unnecessary and distance myself from the herd, I stop worrying about fitting in.

As I eliminate superficial dreams, I stop caring what others think of me.

I no longer seek to fit in, I no longer seek to be like others, I only seek to be myself, I return to my essence.

I peel away the superficial layer of my dreams to fit in, to be accepted in society. I begin to listen for a voice that is deep within me and start doing what I really want without trying to prove anything to anyone, without wanting to fit in where I don't belong, and I begin to be free, just as everything falls into place.

Click on the images for full view

Monsters who live in my mind (Traces 11/2022)

Monsters who live in my mind is a project that talks about living consciously in the present because I do not know what the future holds.

In this project, I look into self-knowledge and transformación along the way I have already walked and what remains to be done. It talks about enjoying the journey and the process as well as cultivating patience and hope.

Life is a cycle, a series of phases, up and down. Life is to learn how to navigate in the middle of a storm, pass through the dark and arrive at the light.

Each experience with Andrea and Gabriel is like a sharp descent into hell to molt a skin, complete a cycle and come back to a surface of luminous intensity.

We were working during an intense astrological period, we were under the influence of two eclipses and two powerful full moons that invited us to a catharsis. During those weeks it was so important to be aware of the present moment and, at the same time, to be patient and wait for the right moment to continue walking.

Creative process doesn’t have rules, as an artist I have to adjust to its cycles and respect them, be patient and give space to magic.

To be continued.

Click on the images for full view

Revista de alta gama para soñar: Conversaciones contigo (Traces - 07/2021)

Can I call you? 

I don't know what is real and what is not.

Those days at your home were so happy, it smelled of Heno de Pravia's perfume and I learned to type.

- Don’t be afraid to be different, don't give up on your dreams, go after them. Get out of the gang, leave the herd, following them won't make you happy. Listen to your heart, live your life. Don’t listen to those who criticize you, they are afraid, they are conformists, you remind them of  what they are not capable of doing, don't let fear paralyze you.

I would like to be a child again, just for a little while, I would like to come back to your home and eat your cannelloni. Why is life so unfair?

Appearances are deceiving and sometimes the wounds of the soul are more painful than those of the blood.

We have to respect the time of the nature, but quite often humans think they are clever and they are in a hurry and make mistakes.

Everything that is different has to be criticised, that's how this society works. You always said something like that to me when I was a child and I didn't understand it.

I don't want to complain, I just tell you my things, but these days are quite strange and first the dark comes out because it’s heavier and then the light will arrive because it is lighter. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know the end, but I'm curious, I have to trust. Life is like a wheel, like a wave, it goes up and down, now we are at the bottom, but step by step I will go up again, the light is my goal. I imagine myself swimming towards the surface like a fish looking for the rays of the sun in the ocean. Life is like art, like all this I'm telling you, I don't know where I'm going, but at some point it will all make sense, just like all the pieces of a puzzle fit together.