I didn't choose to be a painter. Painting chose me. The passion for painting began when I was very young and I started to draw. I guess when I began to have a conscience, a sense of life and the world around me. I became aware of the desire to paint. I began to paint in oils about 30 years ago. I never stopped. It was a psychological necessity. It was a part of me, a way of life and a way of thinking. I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way. They say there is a fine line between creativity and insanity. Some say it is a curse being an artist. A person who feels so deeply, but to me the alternative is unthinkable. Painting for me is a manner of describing and recreating things, a change of reality and also an observation of others.

There are days when I do not paint. Those days I have a sensation of loss. I believe painting has its own life. When it comes out of the studio, it no longer needs the artist. It is independent and speaks for itself. When I am able to sustain my life from my vocation, it is magic. I give the best of my being and my soul to painting. Although, I admit I am sometimes disappointed.

However, sometimes I do not plan my paintings. I create an image in an instant. A few of my works are based upon physical acts and not intellectual concepts. My creations are affected by my feelings. Interventions can change the course of my work and infiltrate my work without my knowledge. It could be in a landscape a figure or a still life. They say a painter always paints a portrait of himself. And that is finally, at which a true painter arrives, spontaneously. To paint is to render yourself vulnerable; it is to open your heart to others.