I have always been overwhelmed by painted or described landscapes rather than by the seen ones. I guess our imaginary capacity goes far beyond our pure human phisiology and our sense of sight is outstripped by a well spurred mind.

Even the same place, painted by one or another, will result in different emotions, different illusions. Mir, Rusiñol, Sorolla, Martinez Cubells, Vila and Prades, just to mention some of the Spanish greater landscape painters might look from the same spot, lit by the same light, and still, their paintings would be completely different pieces of art…Thus, there are art collectors who show fidelity to the artists.

Nowadays, the hussle and buzzle, and the fast paced life rythm as mystics from the XVI century predicted, have stereotyped the way we see and look and the paintings might be featured in terms of standard beautiful postcards.

A bluen and moist Venice, surrounded by the light that whitens the whitest or a magnificent red, ochre, and yellow shades blurring at dawn. Mallorca, mountain over the sea, the Mediterranean breeze with its bluish glow on the dark Green cypresses, the acrid geranium smell… More Chopin than Anglada-Camarassa.

This subtle trees perfectly matched into the Cantabrian sky and quietly bathed by the Deva river water. All this bright greys have echoes of the Gerardo de Alvear paintings.

Maria’s painting being different is what really jumps out with a simple look! Venice, Mallorca, they had their shades, emanated a subtle scent, fooled with light…in an unknown way.

Her painting skill of broad and relaxed brushes, the flow of the color and freedom hastened by strokes caught off guard the inimitable moment that Maria’s feline eyes held as a panther moving forward  from the shadows in velvet steps to reach the flash of light. An iridescent image designed for her own eyes.

The artist faces nature like Eve in the Eden; no need of theoretical nor textual education. The hyperesthesia of her senses of sight, smell and touch is more than enough to build up her world of beauty.

Saudade, the dramatic beauty of the forest and the Busaco ponds,  where a few floating leaves separate reality from the imaginary world that Saint Exupery enhanced.