Something About Me

To talk about Tardor is to talk about this young man from La Xara (Alicante) who was born in 1996 and being the eldest of two brothers has grown up in a humble family where he has never lacked the love and passion for art. Since he was a child he liked painting and drawing, although he did not stand out too much, it was just a hobby that was instilled in him by his parents, but it was really when he learned about the world of graffiti when he deepened and became much more involved and discovered that he could make his passion his profession.

His work has had a clear evolution as the artist has grown and matured, today he likes to tell us a story with each work, hiding symbology and messages that are not always so visible. The artist despite being young has a good background in traditional techniques and in recent years with his artistic training he has pushed digital illustration.

Drowning the Sorrows

I wanted to forget it, to turn the page, to exchange tears for smiles, I thought you understood me, that you loved me, you were there when everyone left, you accompanied me in my long sleepless nights, you were the only blonde that made me forget the brunette, but your company hurt me, an excess of you brought me tremors, sweats and nausea.

I wanted to drown my sorrows, and while I was sinking, you told me that you would stay by my side, but yours has no merit, after all, the bottle always floats.

How it was done

Trapped in time

If there were eternal return, would repeating each of the decisions and actions we have taken in this life be a condemnation or the greatest of joys?

We view the past with nostalgia, the present as a sacrifice and the future with a false hope that never seems to come.

Like the flow of the riverbed, time sweeps over us and ends up dragging us into an uncertain future sea.

How it was done

The passage of time

Rage is easier than mourning and mourning much more than forgiveness, anger covers the pain that I thought made me weak, I was told that time would heal everything, it is not true, but it is also true that the anger is gone, the pain lasted for years and was marked in scars that are not visible to most, but remind me of what I was and what I went through.

Time is cunning and sometimes a bit cruel in not forgiving me for certain memories. I am learning to forgive what I thought was unforgivable, not for you but for me, carrying the weight was bringing me down.

Making art out of wounds, there was no other solution.”

How it was done

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