In Spain, sobremesa means that sacred time after a meal, when stories linger and crumbs become witnesses.

This project began as a zine made with poet Helena Martínez and grew into a performance where we tried to archive what can’t be archived: warmth, laughter, the remains of a shared moment. The leftovers became our way of holding on. 

Through illustration and poetry, we turned the table into a place of care, hunger, and conversation , an open invitation to sit, share an orange, and rest your hands where ours have been.

Azules began as a photographic essay about the invisible:  the women who cleaned the residence where I lived.


Day after day, they moved quietly through hallways, unseen and unthanked. Photographing them became a gesture of gratitude and tenderness. They worked like lionesses: fierce, kind, essential. 

This exhibition, now permanently displayed at the Erasmo Residence of the UAM, is a tribute to their strength and to all invisible care that keeps places alive. A soft conversation between those who see and those who are finally seen.

I was seventeen when I created Monocromo, my first exhibition.


I wanted to strip everything down, no colour, no noise, just light, shadow, and the quiet in between. Across three walls I placed people, animals, and spaces, each one observed in stillness, without interference. The old bus station of Pamplona, where it was shown, became part of the work itself: full of echoes, pauses, and passing moments.

Monocromo was my way of learning to look closely, to give meaning to the simple things, and to find poetry in what usually goes unnoticed.