Sant Feliu de Codines, 1964
I do not remember exactly when this obsession began. Mixing colours and different forms has always been an unchoosable part of me. I can not understand myself without painting.
My formation is absolutely classic. I started my lessons when I was young with Joan Torrabadell (Watercolour National Medal) and he taught me the basic rudiments of painting, and also some certain “philosophy” surrounding this world.
I got bored really early: the landscapes, the nudes, the dead natures. I got tired of them. I was almost about giving up, but then, I discovered Klee and Dubuffet who could actually see things that at that time I could only perceive. A new world was opened to me: new forms, pigments, techniques, everything took a new sense. And finally, I could use painting as a revolutionary weapon.
I collaborated with the Argentine artist Carlos Méndez. Everything turned organic, everything was related to the earth, to the sand, to poetry, which is the best weapon to fight the void.
I exposed in France. In Ceret and Perpignan I met people who knew Picasso and Manolo Hugué. I spoke to Joan Ponç, Robert Sanas, and many others. Those were years of violent creativity.
Time —this cretin— it pacifies the storm —apparently— and I have worked in the opposite direction: I have only searched for what was simple, and closely related to nature and myself. Decidedly, I had to forget about drawing. The Matter, the poetry (always) and only one certainty: I paint because is the only thing I want to do.