in issue 1:
As a kid, my best friend’s parents were both painting teachers at the main art school in Bilbao, but they had their house in Hendaye. When I went over to their place, the garage door was often open. The garage was actually his dad’s painting studio. I’m not sure why but, I always found a reason to go in there. I found it fascinating, the smell of oil paint, the artwork taking form. I enjoyed seeing all the order and disorder, tubes of paint, brushes and all the stuff you needed. I just connected to all that and I knew it was for me. I was 10 years old.