Sometimes I think that if I lived in the countryside I would paint landscapes of mountains, valleys and rivers full of fish, moss and stones, trees with leaves in all the chromatic ranges or leafless, with gnarled branches and colourful birds, or I would try to imitate the transparent patches of greens, blues and violets of the sea...
But I happen to live in the city, and the predominant landscape is made of clothes hanging from the neighbours' flowerless and greenless balconies. Sometimes they wave in the wind, sketching little wriggly ghosts. At times they show fascinating colours, ocassionally they display mournful blacks and browns, and now and then white, cold shrouds, as if of marble.
But what inspires me most are the people I see in the city, a multitude of faces and bodies, all so similar to one another and yet so different. (From the illustrated short story "The window across the way" Rosario Barquin 2014).
