A Fish Called Wander

A Fish Called Wander was the first painting in what became the Nest Series, an exploration of childhood, nostalgia, and the idea of home. I didn’t realize I was going to create a series—in fact, this was the first series I ever attempted.

The painting began with a simple question: I love birds. I love finding nests. What story can I tell with a nest and the significance of what a nest means to me, and maybe to others?

For me, following my dream meant attending Ringling School of Art and Design, the only school I applied to and one that was close to home. I couldn’t imagine being across the country from my mom and family. After graduation, I felt gutted and a little lost. I didn’t have a plan, didn’t know how to make one, and didn’t think much of my work. I was frozen.

I moved back home and felt like the fish out of water depicted in the painting.

Eventually, I snapped out of it. I put one foot in front of the other, worked for years as a scenic artist, and found my confidence along the way. In time, I left home again and survived the flight.

When I began this piece, I wanted to tell that story with as little visual noise as possible.

The oversized nest became a symbol of the home that made my journey possible. I was raised by a remarkable single mother and surrounded by an enormous Cuban family.

My grandfather stepped into the role of father, along with all of his brothers. My grandmother was the kind of grandmother every child hopes to have. She was nurturing, good-humored, and taught me the joys of cooking and gardening. My mother’s brothers and sisters became my own, and as an only child, I grew up with more cousins than I could ever count.

My grandfather came from a family of thirteen children, and my grandmother from a family of nine. All of those brothers and sisters had kids and they had kids, and so on and so forth. I wasn’t kidding about it being a big family! That family became the foundation that gave me the confidence to leave the nest and chase my dreams.

The goldfish came from another childhood memory. I always had goldfish growing up and loved watching them swim. I especially loved caring for them. Every so often, one would leap from the bowl, and fortunately, I was always there to rescue it.

Those connections and memories are woven into who I am as a person and an artist. Long before I understood what this painting would become, the image had already been swimming through my childhood.