Barranco del Infierno Oil

This painting has taken me on a journey—one that began during last year's holiday in Spain with friends. Among all our adventures, exploring the breathtaking canyon of Barranco del Infierno stands out most vividly. The beautifully sculpted rock formations and the golden morning light were pure magic. When Colin was the last to abseil down a gorgeously curved section of the canyon, I knew instantly: this moment had to become a painting.

Soon after returning home, I picked up my brushes. I painted for an entire day, immersed in the joy of it. The memories were fresh, and I loved recreating the shapes of the rock on my canvas. The warm, golden tones, the abstract and organic forms shaped by both water and time—and now by my brush—felt alive. I loved the process, but something was missing.

For months, I didn’t touch it. I was afraid to ruin what I had started. I thought about starting over, but I couldn’t let go of what was already there. Eventually, I returned to it with new eyes. I began adding the deep shadows, the cool blues, and the earthy greens that I remembered from the rocks. Layer by layer, I built the richness I had seen—the true palette of the canyon. Then came soft purples, even hints of pink, touches of light dancing across the surface. All the beauty of the natural world began to emerge.

Now, when I step back and view the painting from the right distance, it finally feels right. The light I once couldn’t capture is now there. The depth and the shapes have found their place. This painting no longer feels like just a pretty picture—it feels like my memory, made real.