Campo Solo
A body of work rooted in Far West Texas, where distance stretches and color sharpens under an unforgiving sky. I am alone, not in isolation, but in a kind of chosen stillness.
Presence over narrative. Form shaped by culture, heat, land, and horizon.
Campo → field, countryside, open land, range
Solo → alone, solitary, by itself
Vaquero Solitario
He rides where the road forgets its own name.
No one knows exactly where he came from. There are stories, of course—there always are—but none of them stick. What stays is the feeling of him: passing through, never arriving, never chased. A figure that doesn’t ask for witness.
At dusk, the color rises instead of fading. The sky turns electric, like something just beneath the surface is trying to speak. He doesn’t reach for it. He lets it pass through him, the way you let heat settle into your bones.
He is not lost.
He just chose a place where nothing follows.
24” x 24” acrylic on wood panel, framed.
A Destiempo
He doesn’t rush the horizon. Out here, time slips—stretches, folds, disappears entirely. The horse knows it before he does. A hesitation in the reins, a tilt of the head… something just slightly off-beat.
In Far West Texas, solitude isn’t empty—it’s charged. Every movement carries weight. Every pause, a decision.
24”x24” acrylic on wood panel, framed.
El Último Descanso
A vaquero and his horse pause beneath a sky that can’t decide whether it’s ending or beginning. The land is quiet except for the weight of distance. In the Campo Solo series, solitude is not punishment. It’s ritual. A moment to gather yourself before the next stretch of open country asks something from you again.
West Texas filtered through static, heat, and memory.
48”x48” acrylic on found plywood.