"Every man's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." Hans Christian Andersen
Sunday, February 16, 2025
Artistic Synergy - A Rich Dialogue
Sunday, January 26, 2025
Going Home
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"Hombre Sandía" oil on canvas, 60 x 80 cm, (sold to a collector from California, USA) |
When one of my favored paintings, such as Hombre Sandía, from my Memento Mori series, is sold to an art collector, it feels like both a blessing and a quiet farewell. It’s a joy to know that someone has connected deeply with the work, giving it a new life beyond my walls. Yet, there’s a tinge of remorse, like parting with an old friend who has shared my space, my thoughts, and my journey. It’s bittersweet—an honor to see it cherished, but a reminder that art, once released, belongs to the world as much as to the artist.
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"La Catrina" oil on canvas, 50 x 70 cm |
There’s a comfort in knowing that my work has embarked on its own journey, while I remain in my studio, immersed in the process of creation. The subject evolves, just as I do, taking on new shades, textures, and perspectives. Nothing in art—or life—is truly static. Every goodbye carries the seed of something new, and with each painting, I feel both the familiar and the unexplored unfold before me.
When a cherished painting leaves my hands to find its place in the world, I find myself returning to the canvas with a sense of renewal. The act of parting inspires me to explore the subject again, as if seeking to rediscover the essence of what first moved me. Each brushstroke becomes a conversation—not to recreate what was, but to deepen my understanding of the moment, the feeling, or the vision that sparked it. I made La Catrina to replace Hombre Sandía . . . and recently, Going Home to replace Viaje Final. Like most of the work on the walls of our home, they are for sale if a buyer comes forth. Until then, they are like intimate friends in our immediate surrounding.
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"Going Home" oil on canvas, 100 x 120 cm |
This cycle—of creation, connection, release, and renewal—fuels my artistic spirit. I am assured that the well of inspiration is never dry, only waiting for me to dive deeper. The process itself is a testament to how art transforms.
Sunday, September 29, 2024
Blossoming
Five years ago, my wife Amy and I made a big life change—we moved to a village in southern Mexico on the outskirts of Oaxaca. We are both artists and made our studio in our home, called Dos Venados, or Two Deer. We wanted to integrate ourselves into our community in a meaningful way, especially with our immediate neighbors, and that’s when the idea of offering art lessons to local children was born.
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Early group picture, 2022 |
Every Sunday, we gather with about eight neighborhood children for a couple of hours of creativity. We provide all the materials—paints, brushes, canvases, sculpture objects—and even refreshments. What started as a fun way to spend time with the kids has blossomed into something much more meaningful. We initially thought the interest might wane as the children grew older, but to our delight, they continue to come back each week, excited for the next project.
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Ebeth, then and now. Watching them grow, not just as budding artists but as individuals, has been a rewarding experience. |
The joy of these Sunday gatherings has made this one of the most fulfilling parts of our life here. We see that our efforts are appreciated. Bonding has occurred. Sometimes a child arrives at our gate with fresh made warm tortillas as a gift. It’s a beautiful reminder that sometimes, the simplest gestures can build the strongest connections.
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Luna, Aram and Pilar. About 1 year ago. |