Discovery — Cazzo
It all began after a few months in Montreal, just as I had finished my bachelor’s in Graphic Design and was ready to return to Chile to start my career. That trip reshaped everything — it made me understand who I was and what truly interested me. Not just in taste or style, but in the subjects I wanted to amplify and give meaning to.
So I created Cazzo, a blog about men’s experiences — an attempt to understand belonging in a world that didn’t feel open yet. It quickly evolved into a deeply personal project of self-discovery through photography.
I started portraying men whose bodies fell outside societal norms, exploring identity, intimacy, and vulnerability. More than a hundred sessions later, I realized those encounters were rituals — raw, psychological exchanges that revealed our shared pain and beauty.
Each photograph captured the unspoken — from the way they opened their doors, to how they told their stories. Those moments became stories, essays, and collaborative texts published in the blog and fanzines.
Cazzo led to fashion collaborations, local production pieces for men’s comfort, a fanzine shown at the MoMA in New York, and photo walks in Montreal. The pandemic ended the project, but I still dream of making a book to honour all those humans.
Revelion — I Was Sad
After a divorce, I fell silent. My desire to create was gone, and I felt empty.
I went back to my roots — to childhood, to what I had learned and what I wasn’t allowed to learn. Growing up in Chile’s post-dictatorship years meant art was censored, yet ancient Greece was everywhere. That paradox shaped me.
Years later, traveling to Italy and Greece reawakened me. Seeing the sculptures, I felt connected to something timeless — the rawness of the body, the sacredness of imperfection. I began studying classical works, documenting, mapping, and researching art movements in depth.
That exploration brought me back to painting and to showing my work across Montreal — through galleries, Gallea’s online store, and art fairs like Montreal en Art.
Healing — Rituals
Then came Mexico. Its nature, its sound, its life — overwhelming and pure.
In search of a pottery master, I discovered sculpture through earth and water. The act of shaping clay with my hands felt like a return to something sacred.
Studying Frida, Diego, and Pimentel taught me that perfection is never the goal — truth is. Their worlds helped me translate emotion into colour, to paint not from observation but from memory, imagination, and spirit.
Through those works, I began to channel all the men I had met — their fragility, joy, trauma, and hope. Each painting became a ritual, a portrait of the invisible.
That’s how my mantra was born:
“Creation. Creation. Creation is the only salvation.”
