FRAGMENTS WITHOUT DIRECTION

This summer, I had no studio. No planned series. Just the urge to paint.

I spent the summer in Beneixama, my father’s hometown, to be close to him and let my son enjoy the kind of place one remembers growing up in.
A friend lent me a corner in his grandmother’s abandoned house. Between days with my son, afternoon swims, and the heavy heat of August, I built something improvised: a box of forgotten colors, a small canvas each day, and calm.

That’s how these pieces came to be.
Fragments of body, of light, of gesture.
With no plan, no pressure—just the quiet pleasure of painting for the sake of it.

I’ve selected ten.
Small, honest works.
Painted with a quiet mind and steady hands.

Each one is oil on canvas, 14 × 18 cm, and—as always—comes with a certificate of authenticity.