Updating my website always feels like stepping into a labyrinth. Let’s be honest—most of us create art to express, to connect, to release energy so we don’t explode, to put into colors what we sometimes can’t put into words, and to pour a piece of ourselves into the world. Yet here I am, navigating the endless tabs and text fields to make sure you can finally see my artworks online. As an artist, it’s not exactly my favorite part of the process, but it’s essential. And so I am finally displaying (most of) my paintings—and their prices—and feels like letting my work take a deep breath in the open. And somehow to put the prices on the website, feels like I am exposing a piece of my soul to a transactional reality. But it is a transactional reality indeed. And I know I´m not the only one with this feeling. Why is it so hard for artists to put prices on their work and talking about the money a painting cost?

Maybe it’s because deep down, we fear that our work might be reduced to a fleeting image on a screen, rather than being fully appreciated as something that belongs in someone’s home, a living presence in their everyday life. Art it’s meant to live, to be experienced fully, beyond the fleeting swipe of your thumb, and that comes with a cost that you need to know, there’s no need for you to ask, there it is, in bold letters. One would never imagine going into a store and needing to ask for the price of every single article to the cashier, and even then, the cashier would simply say the price and that’s it, you’ll take it or leave it. 

Here´s the same, but with a massive difference, because if you’re taking it, you’re not simply acquiring “a painting”, you’re allowing yourself to a unique piece with a particular energy that has resonated with you and has moved something inside of you. Now imagine walking past that painting in your home, catching a glimpse of its colors in the morning light, or sitting with it in silence after a long day. That’s when it becomes yours. 

This summer I visited in Málaga a part of the remarkable Abelló Collection, where I encountered masterpieces spanning centuries. It was in this setting that I experienced for the first time a Rothko in the flesh. This black, red, black, you see in this image of course does not do justice to the original at all. I found myself standing there for what felt like for sure not enough time, but probably was more than half an hour, lost in its depths. Discovering new details in the seemingly bold colors the more I looked at them. There’s something about the way Rothko’s art speaks without words, holding you in a quiet, meditative conversation that is deeply personal. The depth, the energy, the way it fills the room and, somehow, a corner of your soul. Of course nothing could be further from my intention than to compare myself and my art with Rothko or with any other artist living or dead, don´t take me wrong.

My point is that owning art means having that privilege every day, on your terms, in your space. The privilege of living with something that moves you like that—seeing it every day, letting it seep into your life over time. It’s a connection that can’t be replaced or replicated by an IKEA print that has been replicated endless times. It’s a quiet kind of magic, one that can’t truly be measured. Except, well, it can, by the price you’ll find listed on my website. But the true value? That’s for you to discover, in the quiet moments when it’s just you and your chosen piece, for the rest of time.

Thanks for being here, for reading, and for supporting artists who dream of bringing a little more beauty into your world. 

Natalia