Sometimes when I make a mural I think it’s like I’m installing a monument, creating a new symbol for that place. I don’t think of a monument with vanity, but with responsibility, knowing that it will compose the visual fabric of common everyday life, perhaps it will be a point of reference, location and routine for some to pass through it. And what monument is this that I want to create? What relationship do I want them to have with my painting on the street? Maybe if it were some time ago (or some time ahead I hope) the answer would be something more uncommitted or “irresponsible”, but today there is a commitment with the present, with myself to create bridges, to constantly keep the flag of visual poetry and subjectivity raised . I want my monuments to enchant. It is urgent to rescue the enchantment. What is this world that brutality, hatred and hollowness have taken over the microphone? It is necessary to redeem the enchantment. The enchantment of the child who discovers that the butterfly feeds on the nectar of flowers! How amazing must that idea be in a child’s head!? “The butterfly drinks the flower daddy?!” My daughter is one of those children who lives enchanted, and she likes this mystery of the life of butterflies so much that I made some cardboard wings for her to use and also be another butterfly feeding on flowers in the field. This mural is imagining her a little older and if everything works out, not giving up her enchantment for life, no matter how difficult it may be.