It has been said in the imaginative labyrinths of all creativity –in music, in painting and poetry-, the difficult part is not in a work’s completion, but rather finding its beginning. And because none of these labyrinths is as simple as it seems, or at times, because not one thing is simpler that it seems, its understanding is usually difficult.

Because it is nothing more than a question of understanding: The pure act of painting is an exercise of will. It means to decide to enter that blank space, trusting and without fear, in which we will find a response to all the emotional and sentimental baggage which life has bestowed us. And so, suddenly, by an act of faith, we understand it all.  But on account of this sensation, at once so ephemeral but overwhelming, we are obliged to pay the price of dissatisfaction, wondering in search of other imaginative expressions, thirsty for novel answers and eager to be provoked by a mystical experience.

One must use ears to hear the light, to open one’s eyes to the radiant silence and discover our own colors toward understanding that all is of one language, that of poetry.

Painting has allowed me to experience enough poetic wisdom to realize that art is reality’s promise obtained by a desire of the non existent, and it is this desire to transform it into reality which sets the rhythm to dancing with ourselves.




Notes from the Artist

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