Maybe I Don’t Belong—Maybe That’s the Point

Today has been one of those days.

The kind of day where you start questioning everything.

I’ve been looking at my Stories of the American West series and wondering if I’m making a huge mistake. Western art is saturated. There are so many incredible artists doing it, and sometimes that little voice in my head starts saying, Who the hell do you think you are? You don’t belong here.

And honestly?

Some days I believe it.

I feel like an imposter.

But this feeling goes deeper than just art.

I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling like I’m neither from here nor there.

I was born in Venezuela, but I was raised in America. America is home. It’s where I grew up, where I learned how to navigate the world, and where I became the person I am.

But there’s always been another part of me.

A part that came from somewhere else.

Sometimes I feel too American to completely identify with Venezuela, but sometimes I feel too Venezuelan to completely identify with America.

So where does that leave me?

Somewhere in the middle.

For a long time, I thought that meant something was missing.

Now I’m starting to wonder if maybe nothing is missing.

Maybe that’s just who I am.

And maybe that’s why the American West speaks to me.

I don’t claim to be a cowboy. I didn’t grow up on a ranch. I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.

I’m an artist who is fascinated by the stories of people who came west looking for something.

Freedom.

A new beginning.

A better life.

A place to belong.

Maybe I connect with that because, in my own way, I’ve spent my life trying to figure out where I belong too.

That’s what I want this series to be about.

Not just cowboys and horses.

Not just mountains and sunsets.

Stories.

The people who came before us. The places they built. The landscapes they crossed. The struggles they faced. The quiet moments that probably never made it into the history books.

And maybe, somewhere in those stories, I’ll find a little bit of my own.

I’m only a few paintings into this series, and already I’m questioning whether I’m good enough to do it.

But maybe that’s exactly when I need to keep going.

Because if I quit every time I feel like I don’t belong, I’ll spend the rest of my life standing outside the door.

I’m tired of doing that.

So I’m going to keep painting.

I’m going to keep learning.

I’m going to keep making mistakes.

I’m going to keep searching for the stories that move me.

And I’m going to keep putting them on canvas.

I may never feel completely from here.

I may never feel completely from there.

But maybe I don’t need to.

Maybe I belong somewhere in between.

And maybe that’s not a weakness.

Maybe that’s the perspective I’ve been looking for all along.

So, Western art…

Here I am.

Let’s see where this goes.