Encounter, Insights: Architecting the Gaze

For me, abstraction is not an escape from reality; it is a journey toward its core. My process does not begin in front of a blank canvas, but much earlier, through the conscious exercise of observing what is usually overlooked. I seek the essence of things in places where the names of objects disappear, giving way to pure vibration.

The Territory of the Unvisited

I find the spark in the unexplored—not just in distant lands, but in the geography of the everyday. It could be a forgotten path in the middle of a forest or the facade of a cafe I pass every day but have never actually entered. This threshold of the unknown creates a creative tension; the mystery of what remains unpossessed becomes the engine of my search.

I am interested in what happens at the margins. I observe how nature reclaims its space: roots intertwining with moss to create a network of organic tensions, or the solidity of rocks where strata and sediments narrate the passage of thousands of years. These layers of time, visible in the stone, are what I translate into my textures, ensuring that a painting is not just color, but matter with memory.

Forcing Chance

I do not wait for inspiration to arrive; I attempt to provoke the accident. To keep my intuition sharp, I must break my own structures. Sometimes I force chance by stepping outside the habitual: I change my way of speaking, alter my routes, or modify the length of time I hold a gaze with someone.

This subtle misalignment with reality allows me to see the world without the filters of habit. By challenging my own behavior, my mind opens to new ways of understanding rhythm and composition. It is an exercise in attention where I learn to capture the vibration of a shadow or the accidental geometry of light bouncing off a metallic surface.

Light as a Building Material

At its core, my work is an investigation into perception. I am obsessively focused on how light defines space and how projected shadows create new objects that do not physically exist but possess a real presence. I aim to capture that energy and integrate it into my paintings through glazes and reliefs.

I do not seek to represent a landscape or a face, but rather the technical emotion produced by observing a mineral stratum or the silence of an empty room. My textures are the result of this distillation process:

• The roughness of stone translates into layers of dense pigment.
• The interweaving of moss becomes strokes that cross and conceal one another.
• The fleeting nature of light is captured in transparencies that reveal what lies beneath.

A Search Without End

I understand inspiration as a way of life—a sustained attention that never rests. Everything I perceive—from the psychology of a conversation to the traces of erosion on a cliffside—is processed in the studio to become visual language.

The work is the final result of this journey, an attempt to order the chaos of stimuli without stripping away its original power. It is an invitation for the viewer to stop, look slowly, and discover that within the smallest detail of a rock or the shadow of an unknown street lies an entire universe of abstract possibilities.