I was born in Medina del Campo (Valladolid)
November 1 unusually rainy. I was saved by the bell and donkey milk. The first letters I taught them the Parish Operators Ladies, I had three dogs, yard with chickens, a girl\'s bike (no bar), wonderful walks from a grocery store and a churros, with 0.7 diopter glasses prevented me be front without reaching the extreme center humiliating and boring decorative keeper between the two piles of coats, snacks and books. My mother fine sensibility and character instilled in me a love of drawing and oil painting tenacity small tables on Saturday provided the furniture factory next door. My father, a man with such good intentions and sympathy, who lived tenaciously defending the poor education and zeal to fuss was practiced in the environment of the neighborhood. I had to obey my sister, run errands and take a walk, pool and castle, my brother. I finished school and wanted to be a doctor. Meanwhile, I continued painting now in magnificent paintings, and drawing with great pleasure, Madrid. Reading, Politics, hiking, El Prado ... and accidentally discovers the engraving. Readings, Velázquez, Las Ventas, Bosch, Rembrandt. Little by little from a little of this and other roles, illness, comings and goings, a conquest, resounding failures and disappointments, the impetus was naturally dissolving in acids, slowly and quietly iron perchloride was doing his job, and the grounds trying to build what is left of my beliefs, uncertainties taken now unlikely form of bottles, or worked with rule fields, holes, sticks, always light and shadow: VOLUME
Sorry, but I do not want noise or bubbles, this tightrope walker who wanted to be many things, now find solace in solitary, annoying things are just, the slower etch, etching essential melancholy color, intimate and evocative for which at the accompanying body endurance and strength, stay on the line in the merit and hard balance.