When I was 10, I would spend most of my time drawing. I would draw animals, people, cars or copy pictures from magazine ads if I felt the lady in the picture was beautiful enough. I kept on digging the complexity of perspective, testing over and over the hidden lines of streets and buildings. Vanishing points were magical to me. A pencil and paper were my toys. Drawing was my thing, I had tried watercolors but I wasn’t patient enough at the moment, to let them dry. After a while I did my first oil painting, a sunset from an Acapulco picture. I even took the time to build the canvas stretchers. My conclusion as a kid was that there was too much waiting involved and dealing with color was not fun…yet. I felt much better with a pencil and a piece of paper sitting at my desk in the back of my classroom, drawing Speed Racer’s Match5. That was heaven!!!
Being so interested in drawing did not pass overlooked by Mom. This vocation needed some “academic” assistance. After doing some research she found a very old Hungarian painter that had his studio in the back of his jewelry store in Caracas. He was affordable, available and willing to give this skinny kid drawing and painting lessons. His place was small and the walls were covered with oil paintings up to the ceiling. He could paint. My teacher did not talk much. His first assignment to me right out of the bat was to draw a crystal female figure that he placed in front of me! I was shocked. With time I realized this: “I knew how to do something that most people don’t”.