THE MADNESS OF PAINTING A WALL

muro2

Yes, it’s crazy—but also an incredible feeling—to stand before a huge, blank wall where anything is possible. A wall that feels intimidating yet invites you to play, to experiment with imagination and creativity.

It always happens the same way: when I first face the blank wall, I don’t know exactly what I will create. Colors and shapes simply come to mind. But as I start painting, the artwork takes on a life of its own, becoming something unique and unrepeatable. It’s about surrendering to the process, letting the images flow without censorship—just painting them and embracing the creative journey.

In this photo, I had just finished a 3 x 13-meter mural in the gym of María Zambrano School in Las Lagunas. Previously, I had painted five themed spaces in the kindergarten area of the same school, working on smaller surfaces. But this time, it was a monumental experience. The mural brought life and movement to the space, making a striking impact upon entering. I’m beyond happy with the final result—and I think the school is too!

I keep painting spaces, transforming walls, and letting them guide me to tell their stories…

AU REVOIR, PEOPLE!

ART DOES GET STAINED

In many branches of art—if not all—the audience’s perception of a piece is often undervalued, ignored, or even dismissed. I see art, particularly painting, much like football: there are countless incredibly talented players, but only a few make it to the big leagues, earn a fortune, and gain recognition. Some painters became famous only after their death, while others were lucky enough to be discovered during their careers.

Living off your art and living for art are two very different things. There is also a fine line between creating art on commission and simply doing what others ask of you. It all ties into the eternal question: how much would someone be willing to pay for an original piece? And even more: would you pay for an original painting?

I often wonder why so few people buy art, especially when many spend significant amounts on fleeting, less lasting, or soulless things. I’m not here to tell anyone how to spend their money, but I’m intrigued by the act itself: acquiring an ORIGINAL artwork—from a renowned or emerging artist—to have in one’s home, office, or even to give as a gift.

I believe painting is tainted by ignorance, snobbery, and a distorted perception of what it truly is. To me, owning a painting means possessing a piece of the artist’s emotion, soul, feelings, and spirit, captured on a canvas, a wall, or any other surface.

Recently, a friend purchased two of my paintings, and what moved me the most wasn’t the sale itself, but seeing how she hung them with pride, fully aware of where they came from, what they represented, and what I aimed to express. That, without a doubt, was the greatest price anyone could pay for my art: understanding it, valuing it, and making it part of their life.

C’est la vie, my friends!