Why I Paint in the Colors of Puerto Rico

There's a particular hour in Rincón — late afternoon, when the light comes in low over the water — when the ocean stops being blue and starts being something closer to teal shot through with gold. I've stood on that shoreline more times than I can count, and I still haven't found a way to mix that exact color in the studio. I keep trying anyway. That color, and a dozen others like it, are the reason my palette looks the way it does.

The Colors That Inspire Me

My paintings, textile patterns, and shop designs consistently feature the same colors: cobalt, hibiscus pink, sun-exposed rust-orange, and deep green of rapid growth. These colors weren't selected from a color wheel; they are the colors I grew up with. In Puerto Rico, color is just the weather. It's not decoration — it's what the air looks like. When I paint, I'm not trying to depict the place so much as recreate the feeling of standing in it. The saturation isn't for drama. It's for accuracy.

A Hybrid Practice

My family's story runs through Puerto Rico, and lately, Corsica too. I've just started finding and reaching out to long-lost relatives in Puerto Rico linked to our family there — a whole branch of the story I didn't know I had until recently. It's changed how I think about where this palette comes from, and it's shown up in some of the writing I've been doing alongside the painting: what it means to carry more than one place inside you.

You can see that same layering in the studio. A painting might start with a hot, high-contrast Caribbean color logic, then quiet down into something more muted and Mediterranean. I don't plan that shift — it just happens. Finding this Corsican thread has me wanting to spend more time in that quieter half of the palette and see what's there. It shows up in the pattern work too — the geometric pieces pull from one side, the florals from the other, sitting together in the same collection.

Where to See My Work

That palette doesn't stay on the canvas. It moves — from the paintings I'm developing in the studio into pattern and surface design, and from there into things you can actually hold and use every day. A color that starts as a brushstroke ends up as a repeat pattern, and eventually as something small and portable, like a pouch you carry around at AddorabyDiana on Etsy. It's the same idea at every scale, just wearing a different outfit — a little piece of that color, no matter where it lands.

The Journey of Creation

Creating art is a journey. Each piece tells a story, reflecting my experiences and emotions. I find inspiration in the world around me. Nature, culture, and personal history all play a role in shaping my work. I believe that art is a conversation. It connects us, allowing us to share our thoughts and feelings.

As I explore new themes, I discover more about myself. Each brushstroke reveals a layer of my identity. I invite you to join me on this journey. Together, we can explore the beauty of creativity and the stories that art can tell.

What's Next

This is the first of hopefully many posts here — process notes, stories behind specific pieces, and the slower work of figuring out what it means to make art out of more than one home. If any of this resonates, stick around. I look forward to sharing more about my artistic journey and the inspirations that drive my work. Let's continue to explore the vibrant world of art together.