My work is an ongoing search for the structures that hold our inner worlds together — the frames we inherit, the ones we build, and the ones that break. As a multidisciplinary artist working across painting, sculpture, assemblage, music, and performance, I move between mediums the way memory moves through time: fluidly, intuitively, and often without clear boundaries. Each discipline reveals a different dimension of what I’m trying to understand about identity, transformation, and the quiet forces that shape us.

I come from a lineage of Latin American families connected to the arts, and that sense of cultural memory — layered, migratory, resilient — threads through everything I make. My formal education at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, and later at Metáfora in Barcelona, opened the path toward experimentation. There I began merging painting with welded metal, found objects, video, and performance, exploring the tension between permanence and impermanence, waste and reuse, language and silence.

The turning point in my practice came in 2020 after the death of my father. It was then that the concept of “the frame” emerged — not simply as a physical boundary, but as a metaphor for the compartments we create around memory, grief, identity, and experience. The frame became a structure I could deconstruct, rebuild, and question. It became a way to articulate boundaries that are both protective and restrictive, visible and invisible. Much of my work since then examines how we hold on, how we let go, and what remains in the space between.

Plein air painting grounds my conceptual work in lived experience. Painting outdoors in Miami and the Everglades allows me to witness the immediacy of light, weather, sound, and place. Lighthouses, windmills, and other symbolic structures recur in my work as quiet guardians — markers of solitude, endurance, and the dialogue between human presence and the natural world. They stand as metaphors for navigating life’s internal landscapes.

In parallel, my study of world calligraphy, Taoist philosophy, music, and martial arts continues to shape my approach. These practices share an emphasis on rhythm, breath, gesture, and flow — qualities that inform how I move through material, form, and thought. Whether I’m welding steel, assembling found objects, applying paint, or performing music, I’m always working toward the same goal: to reveal the unseen architecture of human experience.

Ultimately, my work is an invitation to pause inside the tension between structure and spirit — to consider the frames that define us, and to imagine how they might be transformed.