“Art remains a space of resistance and of narrating multiple stories, a place to validate certain subjectivities that we usually overlook.”
Barbara Kruger
Through my work, I investigate the tension between discipline and evasion, inherited norms and the raw freedom of stain, gesture, and error. I am interested in how education and its expectations shape the body, memory, and desire, and in how art can become a space for rupture, displacement, and reinvention.
I am not interested in work that faithfully follows a controlled aesthetic or presents a complacent narrative of migratory success. Nor am I interested in painting that remains polished and recognizable without questioning its own limits. I prefer to work through the uncertainty of gesture, the exhaustion of repetition, and materials that resist being domesticated.
This interest has deeply personal roots. I grew up in Venezuela as the son of a military father, who was both a general and a judge, and a mother who was a schoolteacher. This strict and symbolically charged upbringing left its mark through obedience, hierarchy, and repetition. At the same time, it created in me a desire to question those structures. Art became both a line of escape and a space of resistance.
My practice is informed by art brut and outsider art, particularly the work of Jean Dubuffet, as well as by ideas about raw and undomesticated expression as a form of cultural truth. My experience with graphic design software and digital environments also creates a constant contrast between the virtual and the physical, the programmed and the accidental.
I work on canvas, paper, and cardboard, using charcoal, pencil, markers, spray paint, acrylic, and oil. I build images through layers and dense stains that evoke pixels, interference, and decomposing codes. My experience as an immigrant, my Caribbean origins, mestizaje, the cosmopolitan culture of the 1980s, shame, pleasure, club culture, the beach, and the swimming pool all converge in the work.
In the series Milk and Bananas (2025), desire and belonging emerge through sexual and symbolic imagery. In The Bus (2024), Venezuelan buses appear as metaphors for migration and movement toward cities that I imagined but never inhabited. These works explore Latin American machismo, the ways women can also internalize and reproduce it, sexual identity, exhausting repetition, obedience, and escape.
My work becomes a surface for memory and frustration, but also for humor and pleasure. Through painting, I move across inherited structures and transform disorder, error, and gesture into possible forms of freedom.