I fell in love with painting in 2010, running from train security with a spray can in hand, heart pounding. Graffiti was my first obsession—raw, fast, and fleeting.

That energy shaped everything I do. A few years later, I studied Fine Arts, but it was in live painting competitions that I truly honed my style—bold, instinctive, and expressive. These competitions were brutal: endless miles across Spain, city after city, painting massive canvases in just a few hours, waiting for the jury’s verdict. If you subscribe to my newsletter, I’ve got plenty of hilarious stories from those days. Trust me, you’ll have a good laugh.

But the truth is, those competitions burned me out. I was broke, exhausted, and deep down, I knew that wasn’t my place. So in 2018, I moved to London with nothing but my brushes, two backpacks, and a suitcase small enough to count as hand luggage. That’s when I found watercolour. Just like graffiti, it demands confidence in every stroke. And I never looked back.

Let me tell you a story. My first job in London was at a small shop in the northwest of the city. I barely spoke English, but one thing I could communicate was that I painted. You might not have liked my work, but there was no doubt—I was a painter.

Slowly, word spread in the neighbourhood. Without realising it, I was building my personal brand. One day, a man with a ponytail walked into the shop, asking for “the Spanish painter.” That had to be me. He was moving house and wanted a painting of his street. It was just 300 meters away, so I “escaped” from work for ten minutes to take the reference photos I needed.

The rest of that story? I’ll tell you another time. But that commission, as you can see in the photos below, was large. At that moment, it was a significant sum of money for me, and from then on, my life changed exponentially for the better.