Lumina. Magí Puig

I discovered the power of drawing very early on.

When I was a child I realised that I could build a miniature world with drawing: spaceships, aliens, horses, Indians, gunmen, etc. Four strokes were enough, imagination did the rest. But everything took a turn when a classmate suggested that I gave him the horse I had just drawn in exchange for a real one – I mean a toy horse of about ten centimetres, of course. In other words, my doodles could also be of interest to other people.

Years went by and I continued to build worlds and tell their stories with my drawings. When I studied Fine Arts, brushes and paintings joined my pencils and we became inseparable.

I have often reflected on why this creative need arises and how art challenges us; how to explain the magical connection that makes us feel really excited in front of some works.

I find it hard to put it into words, which is why I will quote the ones that the always playful David Trueba puts in the mouth of the protagonist of his novel Tierra de Campos, a musician: “Actually, I just ring bells, once, ten, twenty times, hoping that perhaps someone will hear me and open the door”.

Magí Puig
November 2022