As the smell of acrylic paint, water colors, Gouache, and pastels filled our kitchen

I couldn't help but get excited about learning how to paint. As I sat watching my father

put most of his painting utensils down on the kitchen table I curiously asked

“Is this everything you have?” he replied in a subtle tone “Not everything I used to have

a lot more in my dispatch.”

As he opened box after box of every shade of color you could ever need alongside

pencil’s ranging from 9H to H from 9B to B and pens from .5 to 2mm wide. All I could

think about was how long it had taken him to collect all of this.

“How long have you been painting/drawing for?” He quickly replied with “I've been

painting/drawing all throughout high school and my whole architectural career that's

been 20+ years now.”

All I could think about at that moment was how

“I was gonna learn from a very experienced teacher.” I thought about the art on the

walls. “He's really good at this, I'm going to learn a lot.”

After finally getting everything out from painting utensils to canvases it was

time… we started off slow it got to the point where I was bored. But it was finally my turn

to do what he was explaining this whole time. My Father had me draw three

dimensional objects so I could learn the basics of realistic painting. It wasn't too difficult

up until shading.

“Shading is setting a point where the light is hitting the object.” he said and quickly

followed by saying “you go from light to dark typically you use B pencils for this.”

In the end I did the exact opposite of what I was told which made my father

compare me to Icarus. He only ever compared me to icarus when I wouldn't listen to

him and would do the exact opposite of what he asked. After that he always goes on a

rant about ethics and philosophy. My father was always like this; he only ever wanted

the best for me. Which is why he taught me ethics and showed me different

philosophers to find something I can believe in.

The following day he took me to an art museum to observe what different styles

of painting there were. The museum was beautiful, the Spanish colonial style was

enough to have my father go on a rant about how they could have done it.

“Look at those statues and the way the columns are carved.” followed by “these

types of buildings are rare now.”

After we entered I saw some paintings with vivid colors and some

monochromatics and different painting styles. But he mainly talked to me about finding

my own way in painting. And to translate such knowledge to real life, he explained to me

how he wanted me to grow and be grateful for everything if ever gotten.

“Some people live their lives without miracles, others see miracles everyday.” he said in

subtle tone while staring at the art

I knew he was talking about being grateful for waking up that day and for

everything good that has happened to me. While we were there he brought up

philosophers like Socrates and Baruch Spinoza.

“If you don't like the god the catholic church idolizes you may like Baruch spinoza’s.”

Then he said “the first thing a father can do for his son is give him a god, because that

god gives them a set of values and rules.”

This is one of those moments where you are reminded that your parents love you

so much more than anyone else in the world.

Immediately my brain thought “He must be talking about Baruch Spinoza's god, a god

who only gives love, a god that didn't create heaven or hell.”

After all that the car ride home was full of lectures of how I should see things. He

told me

The next morning in that same kitchen where sunlight was barely coming through

the windows. My father asked me to teach him something for a change. After all he had

taught so much to me I couldn't say no, all he wanted was for me to help him with his

english. We spent all of that morning practicing phrases and words. And after he

insisted on helping me read and write better in spanish.

All I could think was "The relationship I have with my father is a unique one but a special

one I wouldn't trade for anything.”

Examples of my dad's art below.