​

As a multidisciplinary Mexican-American artist, my work arises from a profound need to be seen.

There’s something about eyes that has always haunted me. Maybe it’s that strange, raw feeling of being truly seen—like someone can read you without a single word. That’s why, in my work, eyes multiply. Three, four… sometimes more. It’s not about being strange for the sake of it; it’s about saying something without speaking. About creating discomfort that opens questions.

The Eye That Watches the Eye is a body of work that explores the silent tension between seeing and being seen. When a painting looks back at you, everything shifts. Who’s really watching whom? The viewer becomes part of the scene. That’s where the dialogue begins.

We live surrounded by invisible rules—how to look, how to appear, what’s “normal,” “beautiful,” or “acceptable.” Once we internalize those codes, we stop truly seeing. My characters have extra eyes to break that pattern—to see beyond the surface, and hopefully invite you to do the same.

These works don’t offer answers. They ask quiet, unsettling questions. They are mirrors—inviting you to look again. And maybe, to allow yourself to be seen too.