Since my first brushstroke, I have been caught in a constant dialogue with geometry. My shapes, my colors, my features are an echo of two great masters: Yayoi Kusama, Sonia Delaunay, Mark Rothko, Hilma Af Klint or Wassily Kandinsky, whose works revealed to me that geometric abstraction is, in essence, a universal language.

That February 14, 2008 in Munich, enveloped in the contemplation of Rothko’s great canvases, I received the news of my grandfather’s death. He, my mentor, my guide, who taught me that each stroke tells a story and each color evokes an emotion. In that instant, between vibrant tones and the softness of empty spaces, I felt that death was not an end, but a transition. The geometry that I loved so much became my refuge, my squares and rectangles, lines and points, into bearers of an inexplicable peace, a deep connection with the eternal.

Since then, each work that is born from my hands is a tribute to balance and harmony, a bridge to the very essence of existence. Like Rothko, I seek to have my colors evoke a transcendental dialogue; like Kandinsky, I strive to capture the ineffable.

Each square I draw is a window to a higher plane.

In the end, art is my legacy, the gift that my grandfather left in me: an invitation to explore, to feel, to transcend.