The watercolour workshop in la Seu d’Urgell unfolded with the quiet rhythm that I always hope to find when teaching. I arrived with the watercolour sets, brushes and the intention to guide a group through something deeper than technique. The goal was simple: to create a space where each person could slow down, observe, and let the material speak.
La Seu has a particular light that shifts throughout the day. Before painting, I asked everyone to take a moment to look around, the soft stone walls, the cool shadows, the reflections on the pavement. This first exercise is essential for me. When people begin by observing, their work gains honesty. It becomes grounded in the place where they are standing, not in an image they feel obliged to produce.
We started with water. Plain water on paper. Watercolour comes alive when you stop trying to control it, and I wanted the group to experience that from the beginning. Once the paper began to move and breathe, we added pigment, letting the colours travel on their own. Some participants hesitated. Others surrendered immediately. In those early moments you can already sense the different relationships people have with creativity.
My teaching approach is never rigid. I offer suggestions, but I’m more interested in the pauses, those brief seconds when someone realises they don’t need to rush. As the group worked, the room grew quieter. The brushstrokes became slower, more intentional. You could feel the shift when people began painting what they felt rather than what they thought they should paint.
I brought a selection of homemade pigments, prepared with minerals and soil gathered near the mountains where I live. These pigments behave differently from industrial colours. They settle, granulate, and create textures that carry the memory of the land. Sharing them in the workshop is a way of opening that part of my practice to others. Several participants were surprised by the softness and depth these pigments offer, even when used with simple gestures.
We worked on layering washes, letting edges bleed, lifting colour, and playing with transparency. None of this was meant to create perfect results. The intention was to explore how the material responds when you give it space. When someone found a combination of colour or texture that resonated with them, I encouraged them to follow that path, even if it looked different from what others were doing.
Workshops always bring together people with different stories. Some arrived curious. Others came with a long break from painting. One person spent nearly the entire session studying the tones of a single leaf. Another created abstract compositions that felt like quiet maps of emotion. Watching these processes unfold is one of the things I appreciate most about teaching.
I moved between the tables, answering questions, offering guidance, and sometimes simply observing. Teaching, for me, is less about instruction and more about presence. Each participant needs something different, and the workshop becomes a shared landscape shaped by many hands.
By the end, the tables were covered with drying papers: blues merging into greys, ochres fading gently, small constellations of pigment forming on the surface. Seeing all these pieces together felt like witnessing a collective memory of the day.
Leaving the workshop, I felt a quiet gratitude. The group had embraced the essence of watercolour with openness: letting go of control, welcoming accidents, and allowing the painting to evolve naturally. These sessions remind me of the importance of shared practice, the way creativity becomes richer when experienced in community.
Teaching in La Seu reaffirmed something simple: art grows from attention. When we slow down enough to look closely at colour, paper, water and gesture, we return to a way of creating that is honest and rooted.
No. The sessions welcome beginners and experienced artists alike. What matters is curiosity, not technical background.
Yes. I often bring homemade pigments prepared from minerals and soils collected near my home.
Cold-pressed paper, a basic palette of colours, and a couple of medium brushes are more than enough.
Yes. New dates will be announced through my website and Instagram.
You can view them in the gallery section of my website.
If you want to explore more of my work, you are welcome to visit the online gallery or follow my ongoing process, pigments and experiments on Instagram.
