I’ve always been drawn to the tension between stillness and motion, especially in nature. Growing up, my father would take my brother and me outdoors every weekend—ice skating in the archipelago, skiing in the hills, or surfing on the coast. He was passionate about birds, and through him, we learned to see beauty in the smallest, most fleeting moments. One defining experience was being in the water, feeling the calm beneath the surface as waves rolled overhead. That mix of serenity and power left a deep impression on me, and art became my way of expressing it.

My process begins with a moment or memory that captures the essence of stillness in motion. It might be the light moving across water, the feeling of diving under a wave, or the simple joy of observing nature. I take that inspiration to the canvas, working with paint and palette knives in a way that feels fluid yet deliberate. It’s a process of adding, removing, and refining until the piece resonates with the balance I’m seeking.

I use acrylics for their immediacy and adaptability. They allow me to respond to the work in the moment, much like being out in nature where everything is in flux. My palette knives help me create movement and direction, echoing the flow of natural forces that inspire me. Together, these materials help bring the themes of motion and stillness to life.

Early on, I painted more representationally—figures and objects. Over time, I realized I wanted to capture the intangible: the feeling of stillness within motion. This shift toward abstraction gave me the freedom to explore that duality, both in landscapes and in purely abstract works. A pivotal moment was when I recognized that simplicity—stripping a piece down to its essence—could speak louder than complexity.

I stay grounded in my own experiences—whether it’s the feeling of being in the water or the lessons in observation my father instilled in me. But I also think about how a piece might resonate with others. My goal is to create works that are deeply personal yet open enough to invite viewers to find their own stories within them.

Art offers something timeless: a chance to pause and reflect. In a world that feels increasingly fast-paced, art creates space for connection—whether it’s with ourselves, each other, or the natural world. I don’t think art needs to address issues explicitly to be meaningful; simply creating moments of stillness and beauty can have a profound impact.

Nature is my greatest inspiration. I often think back to those weekends with my father—ice skating, skiing, surfing—and how they trained me to see beauty everywhere. Today, quiet walks, time in my atelier, and conversations with my wife Carolina—whose eye for design constantly challenges and inspires me—keep my perspective fresh. I also find creativity in the unplanned: letting a day or a canvas evolve without a strict agenda often leads to the most surprising results.