Dedication

Between 2003 and 2005, while informally selling small paintings by the roadside near the entrance of Garden Hills in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico, I met a woman whose words changed the course of my life.

That day, most of my paintings were small — 4x6, 5x7, 8x10 inches — and a single 16x20 canvas stood behind me, placed there simply to catch the eye of people passing by in their cars. She stopped to look at that larger piece, the one I hadn’t planned to sell.

She insisted on buying it, offering three hundred dollars — a sum that, at the time, meant I could continue buying paint and materials. Before leaving, she handed me her business card and said:

“¿Sabes por qué estoy haciendo esto?
Tú no perteneces en las calles;
tú perteneces en museos.”

(“Do you know why I am doing this?
You do not belong on the streets;
you belong in museums.”)

Her name has been lost to time, but her words remain unforgettable. That single act of kindness and belief gave me the courage to pursue my first exhibition and to see myself, for the first time, as an artist with purpose.

This page is dedicated to her — to the stranger who saw what I could not yet see, and whose voice continues to guide my work to this day.

I wish I could remember her name, to thank her once again for shaping my own history within the art world.