Alfar (or Alfar's Dream)

A woman, immersed in the silent universe of her workshop, dreams of her daily work. She molds, repeats gestures, gives form to the useful and the beautiful, never imagining that these humble pieces—fruits of earth and fire—would transcend time. This mural is also that dream: an evocation of what remains, of what survives through hands and memory.

This week I had the privilege of painting in Almazán (Soria), as part of the AUA Fest competition. The mural I created is born from the dialogue between the material history and the symbolic memory of the place. Set against this changing sky and these mud and stone streets, I wanted to invoke a narrative where the fragile and the essential embrace.

The piece represents the fragments of a plate from the blue series, typical of Almazán. Each broken piece contains a trace of time: the geometry of the past, domestic memory, the beauty of the utilitarian. Above them, as if floating among splinters of yesterday, a female figure walks delicately. Small against the immensity of the fragments, with one hand she touches the earth—in a gesture of listening and belonging—and with the other she holds a branch: a symbol of life, resistance, and a return to nature.

A flock of birds flies across the mural. They are not there by chance. They act as a common thread, like migrants through time that link the pieces, the gestures, and the silences. They are visual music where the human intertwines with the natural, where the broken past finds new form in the present.