In my case working with a blank canvas has always meant leaving things empty rather than filling them. The focus has been on deciding what truly needs to hold something and what can or should remain open. In many ways an entire practice has been built on that decision, defining where intervention is necessary and where it is not. There is a kind of inherited fear embedded in emptiness, the blank canvas is to design what the silent page is to writing, a surface that by remaining unfilled seems to demand justification.

But beginnings are not always about creating. Sometimes they are about recognizing what is already there, looking closely at what is at hand and weighing how much to bring forward. If there is something to be said it will come. If not what appears may be little more than noise. And when nothing emerges the process can become monotonous, even heavy.

When a work holds more emptiness than active elements it often makes observers uneasy. There is a tendency to want to complete it, to accessorize it, to disguise it, as if design were nothing more than the accumulation of objects justified by saturation. As if the decision not to add more could never stand as a critical stance on its own. Yet every reading passes through the observer’s filter and that filter, whether for better or worse, is subjective, untransferable and shaped by endless variables.

Many times I’ve felt misunderstood, and in some cases rejected, by colleagues. Applications dismissed as “too flat” or “not elaborate enough”… by what standard? When was it decided that graphic work should be measured in countless layers and disproportionate stimuli? Even with a conscious and precise use of negative space, if a piece doesn’t catch the eye right away, its legitimacy is questioned. Fair enough, I can understand that… there are ways of looking that depend on instant impact. And I too overlook many things, especially as someone self-taught, without academic backing or a theoretical corpus to validate me.

With my first book now published and a second one on the way, I’m interested in understanding which distribution spaces are open to works that don’t rely on excess or spectacle. These are not objects designed to impress immediately, but to sustain a visual reading shaped by rhythm, musicality, and omission as compositional tools. They don’t aim to fill, but to structure silence.

The contemporary editorial and graphic landscape feels saturated with stimuli: a proliferation of forms, textures, and colors that, more often than not, respond less to conceptual decisions than to a demand for instant visibility. The relationship with the image has become anxious. In that context, sobriety, restraint, and anything not immediate tend to be discarded for lacking commercial readability.

In contrast, my practice rests on a more structural and less ornamental logic. I’m interested in working from visual economy, not as a minimalist gesture but as a method of spatial analysis. I see composition as a system where each element serves balance, breathing, and internal tension. This does not imply neutrality, but rather a deliberate search for formal density through minimal decisions.