First Stage

St. Jean Pied-de-Port / Puente-la-Reina

I returned to the Way that I traveled on foot 16 years ago. The way of the stars that took me through forests, plains, rivers and churches all the way to Santiago de Compostela.

I decided to go back there with my paintings because I wanted my work to return to the source of its spirituality, the stones trodden by centuries of pilgrims, the faith-flooded plains.

First day of the Way: St. Jean-Pied-de-Port, the last city before the climb up the col de Roncesvalles. My niece and I had arrived the day before, the 5th of September, to meet up the next day with Acácio and Orietta, friends and hosts of the Way to Santiago. They came to help us not only to “plant” my canvases in the sacred ground but also to guide us with their stories and legends.

In this border town shimmering colorfully in the Pyrenees, we decided to follow the footsteps of the pilgrims, men and women who at each step catch a glimpse of the skies and pass through portals. And so we entered through the gate of Santiago that takes us to the church of Our Lady of the End of the Bridge.

I wanted to stay alone with my friends on this sunny day before carrying my partially painted canvases to the top of the mountains. I wanted to complement them on the mountains because I knew that there on high I would feel inspired.

We climbed the Pyrenees by the most difficult route, which gave us a marvelous view of the whole valley. We were presented with a rare vision of the sun with all its glory bathing in light the mountains that were nearly always covered in clouds. And so we saw the naked mountains offering their sinuous and sensual shapes to the deep-blue sky.

Reaching the highest point, there we found among a sea of stones a Madonna with the Baby Jesus with His arms open. I chose the spot that the pilgrims call “the hand that touches the sky”. The reason is simple: at these heights, after climbing the steep mountain paths, the pilgrims have the impression that they are touching the sky.

Taking my work to the forests and mountains is not a gratuitous act: mine is a pilgrim’s work, it leaves the four walls of the studio and the Way to Santiago is the best place for it. I always thought of the Way when I began to put my paintings in the far-off lands of India and virgin forests of the Amazon. Now the energy of that land will imprint its visible and invisible marks on the canvases.

I took four paintings of a series I developed some time ago inspired by telephone cards. The symbols of the mouth and heart have already kissed other continents and I wanted them to come and impregnate the Way. So this time the symbols of the Way came as a complement: I drew a series of shells, the symbol of the Way. I used as a stamp a shell that I bought in Saint Jean Pied de Port. In another painting I drew the silhouette of the shell, and to the third painting I attached the golden shell itself. The fourth and last painting I decided to dedicate to the Virgin, the feminine energy that has always guided me in my creative work. While drawing, I realized that the Virgin, the Goddess, is omnipresent, even though the Way is essentially masculine, a rough road that imposes on the dreamer the destiny of his dreams. So I made a blue crown and used a golden powder to represent the Milky Way, the arched vault of light that has always guided the pilgrims.

In this place of prayer and contemplation I left my first works of the Way. Works that kiss the sky.

We came down from the mountains to Roncesvalles in the direction of the Spanish border. We saw a crowd, which is something out of the ordinary, and were told that it was the feast day of Our Lady of Roncesvalles.

I would like to bury my work in that place too, which brought back so many memories of my first pilgrimage. What a joy to see the cross on the church in Rocesvalles - actually a pilgrim’s crook transformed into a cross!

Just 300 meters south of Roncesvalles on the road that leads to Burguete, we stopped in front of the pilgrim’s cross, a wooden cross that dates from the 16th century, ornate with the statue of the Virgin. There in the forest I felt a strong presence telling me that my work could be planted in that bed of leaves.

I chose another four mouths and complemented them with the cross of Santiago, the warrior symbol that allies cross and sword. The winds carried to us the slow ringing of the bells of the church of Our Lady of Roncesvalles.

We prayed and from there we headed for Puente la Reina, the town in Navarra where all the roads to Santiago converge.

We reached the El Peregrino hotel, took a well-deserved bath and chatted with our guide-host Ângelo, who offered me his gallery to show my paintings to the pilgrims next year.

Second Stage

Pamplona / Puente la Reina

On the way to the El Peregrino hotel, Acácio and Orietta wanted me to see Santa Maria de Eunate, a 12th-century Templar chapel not on the Way to Santiago. I did not go there on my pilgrimage in 1990 because I could not even contemplate anything that took me far from the Way.

Acácio, however, told me that this is one of the most magical places in all of Spain, so the power of his stories guided me over the sun-scorched plains.

On reaching the chapel, after traveling many kilometers from Saint Jean Pied de Port and planting several works, I spotted a humble but sumptuous building. It was late afternoon and the sun going down behind the mountains bathed everything in its golden cloak.

Eunate, which in the language of the learned means both “one hundred doors” and “the good door”, was fearless on that clear afternoon.

There are stories that say that this is a place of magical initiation where men and women seeking spirituality walk a hundred times around the octagonal construction looking for the gateway that will lead them to the supernatural.

Acácio told me that one of the sides of the chapel is feminine and the other side masculine. And Orietta added that the arches, which could be perfect, are not so for a very simple reason: out of humility, the Templar architects decided not to compete in perfection with the skies.

We walked around the building and I noticed that they both began to walk very slowly. Acácio was looking for the best spot to bury the paintings. I asked why he was walking so slowly and he said that in sacred geometry it is possible for a person to feel the currents of subterranean water in the air. That is how he was looking for the water beds where my canvases could be planted.

However, although I wanted to leave something, I realized that I had no more paintings with me, so I would have to resign myself to leaving nothing there. Now I know that when I come back next year to collect my work I will pass through Eunate with a painting dedicated to this enigmatic Virgin.

We returned to the car and went to the El Peregrino hotel, where I met Ângelo to speak about my work. On reaching this beautiful hotel that he and his family treat with so much care, I explained my project:

“In this first stage I am leaving 27 paintings between St. Jean Pied de Port and the city of Castrojeriz in Castilla Leon. In April of next year I shall come back to collect them and plant others between Burgos and Compostela. So from May of 2007 I want my work from this first stage to be shown in the gallery of your hotel so that those who take the Way can see my “pilgrim” paintings. I am also going to bring out a DVD showing the work process because I sincerely believe that the people who travel this sacred road will be able to understand my intention and share my vision.”

Ângelo liked very much what I told him and accepted to have his gallery host this project for the next two years. This was a blessing because I had to find somewhere on the Way that could exhibit my paintings. This encounter brought to mind one of the teachings of the Way: always have an objective to guide your steps.

The following day we went to Alto do Perdão, between Pamplona and Puente la Reina. On that cloud-laden afternoon I remembered another resplendent one in 1990. I had just climbed the mountain when I saw a Basque pilgrim sitting there dressed all in blue and wearing a straw hat. He was contemplating that landscape dotted with green trees and tones that went from yellow to brown. I took a photo of him against that arid background - later on it would become my first painting of the Way. I gave this painting to the pilgrim Theo and his wife Juanita as a token of our friendship on the Way.

From this memory I came back to the grey afternoon hovering over Alto do Perdão. Legend has it that the devil tried to tempt the pilgrims there using the trick of offering them water if they would stop walking and give up their faith. The good pilgrim continued on his Way and received God’s pardon.

By coincidence I had brought two water paintings (inspired by a series of kimonos that I left in rivers). These two in particular had been left in the Gave de Pau, a sacred river that runs in front of the grotto at Lourdes. On them I drew golden arrows, the symbol of the Way.

These water works were deposited in the ground through which the water of the source runs. Orietta was astonished that I wanted to leave my paintings in the very place where the devil tempted the pilgrims. I felt, however, that a work that had remained in the holy waters of Lourdes ran no risk and could return to their element.

When we finished planting my work, the heavy clouds emptied from the skies, together with thunder and lightning. I realized the incredible synchronicity of it all. I had just carried water to the foot of the mountain where subterranean rivers flow. From this meeting of the waters was born the rain.

The next day was already time to part, and I left in the gardens of El Peregrino hotel a painting of a mouth with the symbol of the Miraculous Medal. Acácio had told me that by planting a painting there, in the place where my canvases were to be exhibited, I would be inaugurating a cycle, creating an egregor.*

I asked Ângelo to help me. Upon seeing the painting, he asked me about the symbol that looked so much like his signature. I told him it was the symbol of the Miraculous Medal, announced by Our Lady to a French nun called Catherine Laborée.

We picked a spot in the garden near a statue of the Virgin that he had hidden there, and there we planted the twelfth painting.

Before going to Santo Domingo de la Calzada, he asked my niece and me to have lunch with him and gave me a present: a round wooden coat-of-arms with the symbols of Mary the Crowned Queen.

Once again I saw the corresponding symbols and felt with all my faith that the Way was accompanying me.

* A collective being composed of a multitude of influences which unite around a common center. The egregor is always an invisible and spiritual being, which is coupled with a physical entity. When several people on the earth unite around a common idea, they give birth to a collective and intelligent spiritual being.

Third Stage

Santo Domingo de La Calzada, Viloria de Rioja, Castrojeriz

When we reached Santo Domingo de la Calzada, we were surprised that the church was still open at eight o’clock in the evening. When we entered, a missionary who had lived in Africa was delivering a beautiful sermon in which he reminded the congregation that the mission of the Church was always missionary, in other words, always going towards the other, always building bridges between cultures. This gave me great inspiration because I saw correspondences with my own work: a pilgrim work that leaves the four walls of the studio to meet Nature, a work that goes towards the unknown and is never the same.

Acácio, Orietta and I explained to Paula, who was visiting Santo Domingo de La Calzada for the first time, why there was a hen and a white cockerel inside the hen-house in the church. I wrote down this story and the next day put it up on the board by the bridge built by Saint Dominic:

Legend has it that a couple of German pilgrims accompanied by their son stopped at a house in Santo Domingo to rest. The owners of the house had a daughter who fell in love with the boy. On seeing that her love was not answered, she decided to take vengeance. She hid a silver piece inside his bags. When the boy was discovered, he was arrested, taken to court and condemned to death by hanging. The desperate parents then noticed that although the young man had been hanged, he was still alive, and went to report this to the town mayor. The mayor was having his lunch - roast chicken and cock - and said that the boy was as alive as the cock and chicken on his plate – at that moment the cock began to crow and the chicken flew out of the room. They ran to rejoin their son, still alive because Saint Dominic and the Virgin Mary were holding him by the legs.

On the following day we went to Viloria de Rioja, the town where Saint Dominic was born, to visit Orietta and Acácio’s hostel. I was very moved when we reached the hostel. One feels immediately that these hosts really treat their guests with love. Upon entering, I saw Paulo’s photo (he is the benefactor of the hostel) and one of my works with the image of the Santiago gateway where the pilgrims lay their hand.

I left five paintings in Viloria de Rioja. In Gave de Pau I had left the blue painting of the kimono with golden arrows and two mouths with shells.

At night we returned for supper, a meal that Orietta and Acácio always offer the pilgrims. The pilgrims thus have an opportunity to share their experiences and mutually enrich their lives. This contact is necessary because the people are in a very strong spiritual state, capable of perceiving things that they never even imagined. The richness revealed in the simplest things - like having a bed to sleep in, a roof to shelter from the rain, a plate of warm food, a friendly word – becomes essential during the journey.

In my work I relive this religious and magical experience, because Nature often presents me with new mysteries. My paintings and the experience that they provide alter my perception of the world, just like walking opens the pilgrim’s eyes to the essence of the journey.

There we were, seventeen people sitting down to dinner in the living room of the hostel, all relishing the privilege of being together after a lonely day’s walking. Acácio and Orietta said a short prayer to thank pilgrims past and present.

Paulo’s presence was palpable, for several pilgrims asked to have their picture taken beside his photograph. At that moment I thought of how many pilgrims passed by here guided by his story and his experience ... myself among them.

I went back to the hotel with my niece and we dreamed: mine were about landslides (for some days I had been dreaming about houses and bridges collapsing); Paula’s were about her angel, for the first time.

I had to spend all of the next day working to finish a painting to deposit in the bed of the river that flows through Santo Domingo. In a large area of the canvas I painted seven panels telling the story of the saint and including shells. In the late afternoon we went down to the bank of the river to plant the painting.

The river was completely dry, so I felt it would be ideal to plant my painting on the bed of rocks. The dry leaves on the ground, bathed by the setting sun, gave me the impression that we were already in autumn. It was a very magical moment, and I let my mind become empty while I lay the rocks.

When we finished, the hosts went back to their hostel and we decided to walk a little on the rocks.

At night Paula and I went to a restaurant where we witnessed a very sinister scene: the roof of a house had collapsed and policemen with torches were looking for someone beneath the debris. I began to pray because I had been dreaming about this for several days, and now was seeing the nightmare materializing before my very eyes. The biggest enigma is that since then I have not dreamed any more about it, as if reality had decided to scare off the dream.

As we had another day in this stage of the journey, I decided to go to Casrtrojeriz, where there are ruins of a fort.

For this stage I worked on four paintings with the signs of the Way:
the shell with the cross of Saint James,
the shell with the crown of the Virgin,
the shell with the arrow, and
the shell with the heart of Mary.

First we stopped at San Juan de Ortega, after coming across a shepherd and his numerous sheep. We passed by field and after field of sunflowers unpicked and burnt by the scorching sun of Spain. This sight always gives me a feeling of desolation because these flowers that offer us so much are left abandoned. I see in them a sign that everything that is planted must one day be gathered. May time be our ally when we decide to work with it and experience it, but not to abandon it. I do not want my paintings, planted with so much love and so much history, to end up like these sad sunflowers, forgotten and blinded by the sun. I know that I shall be back.

On arriving at San Juan de Ortega on this grey afternoon, I was greeted by someone I know so well: Father José Maria, the 80-year-old host who continues to dedicate his life to those in need of a shelter.

I remember that sixteen years ago I ate there a garlic soup made by Juanita, a Basque woman I had met on the journey who was celebrating her silver wedding anniversary with her husband Theo. I have never forgotten that soup because when I went to the kitchen to help Juanita, I saw a phrase by Saint Teresa of Avila written on the wall, “God can also be found among the pots and pans.” Yet another lesson on the journey: truth is revealed in the simplest things.

I wanted to enter again the Romanesque church of San Juan de Ortega, which is known for its Virgin, illuminated at each summer solstice. At this time of year a ray of sunshine passes through one of the rose windows of the church and lights up the Virgin’s womb. I chose to plant the painting with the shell and heart of Mary behind the church.

On the way to Castrojeriz, we passed the ruined convent of San Anton, today a refuge for summer pilgrims, besides being a 14th century Gothic monument with Romanesque reminiscences. For several centuries, San Anton functioned as a kind of toll station on the Way: pilgrims had to leave some bread, wine or money there. All that remains today are the arches and the vault of the sky.

There I left the painting of the shell with the crown.

Following the longest street on the journey – about two kilometers long – one comes across the college of Santa Maria del Manzano, from where one can see the church of San Juan with its flanks dominated by the ruin of a castle that was the cause of dispute in the 9th and 10th centuries between Moors and Christians.

I decided to leave the two other paintings inside the ruins of the fort: one of the shell with the cross of Saint James, the other with the golden arrow.

Once my paintings were planted, I began to take my leave of these sun-drenched plains. I will only be back here in a few months’ time to plant other paintings that will move further ahead towards Santiago.

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First Stage                                   Second Stage                                                           Third Stage                                               Índia 2005                                       Amazônia 2004                                   Pirineus 2003 - Trabalho realizado