I don’t know if this is going to help you
understand my intentions, nevertheless my artwork, but I feel
obligated to put it in writing. As an honest man I tell you
that I don’t always have a plan. I don’t always
anticipate the finale. I, sometimes, ignore the results. I
am clueless almost in every stroke. I paint though. This I
like to do. My mind flies away to weird places and I try to
catch the images, the colors.
The Dancers
Acrylic on canvas
Tatooed Perfection
Pastels on paper
So my statement is…what is my statement?
I state that the Surrealists of the world, old and new, had
a different brain. Maybe a mind that seems to have a mind
of its own. Something unnatural…I believe that some of
us are lucky. Some of us have the ability to copy an image
with brush strokes and paint onto a piece of stretched canvas
fabric. So it’s the brain and the skills of the hand.
Can you imagine Dalí with these great visions in his
head, but no useful hands to re-create them? I think he would
have bled from eyes and ears with agony.
The Emptyness Within
Acrylics on wood
Rythm In Dance
Commissioned mural
That is why I paint. If I don’t, I suffer.
I paint because it is within me like a demonic possession.
I feel the need to do it like I need to eat. I wonder if the
great painters in history felt the same.
So going back to the statement thing, well…I am still
trying to put it in words. It is not as easy as I thought
it was going to be. Perhaps one of these days it will all
become clear in my head. Maybe soon I will find the reasons
and motivation. One of these days I will state my self, expose
my insides and show you. For now, let’s just keep it
simple. I paint because my brain and my hands force me. I
paint because I don’t want to bleed from my eyes and
ears in agony. I paint because I am lucky.
Raices 
The Dancers
The Emptyness Within
When Mama Says No
Fairy Dance