Fragments of the body and memory
Exile and the lost works did not close my work: they incubated it. From that silence, I took up painting again, and found in photography and technology a new alliance to continue growing as an artist.
I paint from what hurts. I paint what cannot be archived. I paint bodies that no longer have territory.
My work moves between memory, the decomposition of symbols, and the poetics of margins.
I was born in a country where images are censored and stories are erased. What is lost returns as painting, as tension, as wounded matter.
I use raw canvas, burlap, thick oil. Not out of nostalgia for craftsmanship, but out of a need for friction. Each stroke is a cut. Each surface, a field of resistance.
The figures that appear — fractured virgins, confronting animals, headless bodies — seek no redemption. They do not illustrate. They do not explain. They demand presence.
Although painting is my main medium, I also work with visual archives and AI tools. But I am not interested in technical simulation, but in symbolic reconstruction.
I take images of forgotten immigrants, broken portraits, archive photographs, and make them speak again. I distort them so they say what the past silenced.
My practice is an emotional archaeology. I paint like someone who excavates. Like someone who builds altars from fragments. Like someone who makes absence visible.