MY WORK
Experience Becoming Image
The territory exists in itself. The landscape does not. The landscape comes into being when a territory is experienced, and, over time, that experience finds a form.
My painting begins with a question that remains open: how does an experience of the world become an image?
I do not work from immediate observation or from the reproduction of a particular place. The images that give rise to my paintings do not emerge before the landscape. They arise over time, when the experience has ceased to belong solely to the moment in which it was lived and finds a form through which it can become visible.
The territory exists independently of those who move through it. Landscape, however, is not a given of the world, but an experience. It begins when a territory is lived, and perception transforms what is visible into an inner reality. Over time, that experience continues to reorganize itself. It moves away from the anecdotal, intertwines places, times, and atmospheres, and acquires a coherence that no longer responds to geography, but rather to the way the world has remained within us.
It is within this process that each painting is born.
The work does not reconstruct a memory, nor does it represent a landscape. It gives form to an experience that is still taking shape. Painting does not illustrate what has been lived; it participates in the understanding of that experience, making visible a reality that previously existed only in a latent state.
For this reason, figuration constitutes the starting point of my language, but not its final destination. It maintains a connection with the recognizable world while the painting moves toward that which cannot be reduced to the description of form. I understand abstraction not as a departure from reality, but as the natural consequence of every deeply lived experience. We never perceive the world in a completely untouched way: every act of seeing selects, connects, transforms, and constructs. Painting makes this transformation visible.
Nature is the field in which this investigation finds its language. I am not interested in nature as a subject of representation, but as the place where the relationship between the world and those who inhabit it is revealed with greatest intensity. To contemplate does not mean simply to pause before a scene, but to participate in an experience that simultaneously transforms our perception of the world and of ourselves.
Each work remains open to new ways of seeing because experience is never exhausted by the person who originates it. Painting finds its meaning when another consciousness establishes its own relationship with the work and extends, through its own history and sensitivity, what the image has only begun to reveal.
I do not understand painting as the representation of landscape.
I understand it as the place where an experience of the world finally finds its form.
