Every artist follows an inner compass that quietly shapes the work beyond what is immediately visible.
In this conversation, Erb Mon reflects on the ideas that have guided his practice over time—from freedom, uncertainty, and the poetry of everyday life to the belief that art is not merely something we create, but something we live. Rather than offering fixed answers, he invites us to embrace mystery, transformation, and the courage to remain open to the unknown.
Beyond every finished work lies a way of seeing, questioning, and moving through the world. The Core Messageinvites readers to encounter that journey through the artist's own words.
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Q. Thank you for joining us today—it's wonderful to meet you. To begin our conversation, we are curious to know how you define your identity as an artist at this moment and what central theme most occupies your thoughts.
A. Hello again, I’m glad to be here for the second time. Thank you.
I define myself as a visual poet who uses painting as a tool/language. For years now I’ve been paying attention to what I call “the poetry of things.” It is about seeing life in a poetic way; after some time practicing this kind of gaze, you start to see poetry in everything, and this makes me, my daily life, and my painting become poetry. This practice turns life into something more delicate and noble.
All my artistic research revolves around freedom. I am aware that my time on Earth is an experiment in becoming the maximum expression of freedom. There is no other purpose or ambition, just liberation.
That is why nature, minimalism, and metaphysics are always around what I do, whether in life or in work. I believe they are the best path toward freedom.
Q. This chapter is titled "The Core Message"; If you were to describe the "anchor" or the most fundamental intention that holds your practice together, what would it be?
A. Let’s say that art is my trick to outwit “normality.” Few people really understand this word, which refers to following “norms,” and within norms there is no freedom.
What I mean is that painting is merely a tool to achieve my purpose, which is to be that maximum expression of freedom I mentioned earlier. Everything in my life revolves around this: from the moment I wake up until I go to sleep, and then, in my dreams, I continue doing the same. It is a mystical task, not an existential intention.
And as for the anchor, I don’t have one. I am a drifting ship; I trust the infinite.
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| Cartas do Allen |
Q. Is there a specific piece among your works that you feel most clearly embodies this "message"? We would love to hear the story behind that work and why it holds such a special place in your heart.
A. There is a painting titled Cartas do Allen, from the Simbiosis series, which I painted in Valencia in 2017. It is a small work on paper (22 × 22 cm), but it carries great symbolic weight in relation to what I am saying. It has a dark, textured background that symbolizes the mystery of life—the ignorance into which we are born. On top of this base are colored lines that transform the painting into a letter, a manuscript of light and shadow, like life itself.
We come here to write a story through our actions. I believe in reincarnation, and it seems to me that if you do not learn the lesson, you return to the same place and circumstance. This is what Buddhists call the wheel of Samsara (or bhavachakra): a fundamental concept in Buddhism and Hinduism that represents the continuous cycle of birth, suffering, death, and rebirth. Driven by karma, attachment, and ignorance, this cycle binds beings to an existence of dissatisfaction, whose ultimate goal is liberation and the attainment of nirvana.
Let's say that what Buddhists call nirvana is what I consider to be the highest expression of freedom. By saying this, I do not mean that I am Buddhist. I am nothing so that I can be everything. It simply seems to me to be a very logical way of understanding the process of life.
I start from the premise that we live in an earthly paradise; nature is the empirical proof of this. But as a species, we have determined that the primary activity of the human being is to work. Here I return to semantics: the word work has an etymological origin directly linked to an instrument of torture.
On the other hand, the main reason behind empires, monarchies, and later slavery has been the domination of land. And here, in Spain, people have to "work" for forty years, paying a monthly mortgage on their home—that is, on their tiny domain of land.
In contrast, there is nature, standing in opposition to these absurd laws. I mean that if we analyze the human belief system and its social "order" in depth, we come to understand that we are immersed in a kind of mystical gymkhana, and that what truly matters is learning to love where there is no love, to be free within oppression, and to dream of flying one day.
Q. Sometimes, the most important messages are felt rather than seen. Is there a "whisper"; or a subtle atmosphere in your work that you hope the audience will sense, even if it’s hard to put into words?
A. My abstract art is a rebellion against an extremely figurative world. Society is trapped in front of the mirror, obsessed with its own narrative. I believe that my life and my work send a very clear message: get lost in the forest.
The center of my work is not the object, the painting, the mural, or whatever it may be; I am the action, and in everything I do there is movement, the sound of wind, and huge waves. I think that anyone who studies my work and the way I expose myself to the public can understand this.
Q. Artists often find themselves returning to a certain inquiry. What is the persistent question you find yourself asking through your art, regardless of how your style may change?
A. I have three recurring questions that I use as a guide.
The first is metaphysical: what lies beyond the mountain?
My paintings cannot be repeated; I live with mystery on a daily basis. I also have no fixed residence. Today I am in Barcelona, tomorrow I travel to France. I don’t know where I will be in July.
One of the most effective creative sources is uncertainty. Not knowing opens up a very wide range of possibilities. Experimenting with peyote, I carried out a very interesting exercise to put the ego in order: I would go to an unknown mountain at night, without a flashlight, without supplies, with nothing but the clothes I was wearing. I would start walking aimlessly in the dark until I was completely lost; then I would ingest peyote and begin the journey of finding myself again.
If you fixed your gaze on something for ten seconds, a shape would appear; animal sounds would transform in the mind.
Mystery is the guide for stepping outside the obvious, for understanding that there are things we do not know and that we may like them more than the things we do know. Artistically, it is brilliant.
The second question is martial: what’s for dinner?
I have spent almost thirty years dedicated exclusively to art. This means that my inner hunter is very active: you have to create, but you also have to eat in order to do so. Understanding this is fantastic; it puts you on alert and you discover your strategy. I know many people in the art world who often say, somewhat capriciously, “I don’t know how to manage my work.”
At first it sounds cool, but deep down it reveals scarcity. Selling the work is part of the work. Painting well is important, but it is only part of the process; the other part, and perhaps the more important one, is connection with the other, and that, at least in the era we live in, happens in the “agora.” Money is energy.
To be a complete artist you have to be:
- Magician: create the work.
- Merchant: sell the work.
- Pontiff: create bonds through your work.
- Erotic: have a unique gesture and voice, seduce through your work.
And the third question is existential: why me?
When you trust magic, it trusts you, and things start to happen. The universe likes the brave. Extraordinary events occur when you accept the extraordinary; it is as if you are qualified to learn certain lessons, and then those lessons appear.
My life, from a very young age, has been quite absurd. If I told it to you, you might not sleep tonight: it is full of incredible events, impossible challenges, and mostly good choices. I am not exaggerating.
What is uncomfortable about all this is that it is hard for me to understand why so many things happen to the same person (me). Some people suffer certain things, others different ones. Since my childhood, life stripped me of all the structures that allow a person to integrate socially, and I am often astonished by this process.
In my favor, I am obedient to the process; I understand the magic of the situation and I am always willing to learn. Regardless of how complex the path has been, I remain grateful. I am sure that I am writing a beautiful story, like the painting I spoke about earlier.
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| Love is the law |
Q. In an era of rapidly changing trends, how do you maintain your own pace and stay focused on the voice that matters most to you?
A. I am just another trend. It is important to focus on this; otherwise, you become a slave to some decree.
If you want to be an artist, you have to be unique. If you follow a trend, you are a repeater—you are part of an army. I do not belong to anything. Every time I tried to follow a trend, it went very badly for me; I am not good at that.
Q. During the creative process, is there a specific moment or a sensation of "rightness" that tells you a piece has successfully captured your intended message?
A. In my case, it almost never happens. I don’t believe there is an end, but rather a duty to turn to the next page in order to drain the energy. It is like a good conversation, or like this interview: I could spend the rest of my life answering questions.
It is true that there are some matches, moments when everything flows and the result is inherent to the intention, like that perfect night of love. But I believe that the work is a reflection of you: it is not about whether the work is complete, but whether you are complete.
Q. Beyond the final result, what part of the "act of creating"; itself do you find most precious or aligned with your personal values?
A. I don’t have a single moment that I like more than others, but when you think about what you are going to do, when the plan begins in the mind, that is a very exciting moment; I love it. The thing is that I am very impatient and I suffer a bit with waiting.
There is a courtship with the idea. Visualizing what it could be is very exciting; you understand the possibilities and you have the freedom to create different options, you can allow yourself that. Let’s say I have a studio in my mind. When I go out into the street and take public transport, I don’t carry a smartphone; I prefer to think, to imagine. I never get bored.
This allows me to paint wherever I am. I organize projects in my mind, I have a good memory, and I don’t need to take notes; everything stays stored in my head.
Imagining is fantastic. All possibilities are there; there are no limits.
Q. Looking back, was there a specific experience that shifted your focus from purely aesthetic concerns to a deeper message within your work?
A. Surely the entire learning process from my psychedelic experiences changed me completely; that is where I opened the door.
I have to tell you that the second most important thing that happened to me in life was having these experiences. They shaped me as a human being and, without a doubt, I am a better person because of them.
At the same time, they organized the learnings from the first most important thing that happened to me in life, which was loving my partners, each in their time. Having the power to love someone is the milestone of life. I suppose there are people who feel the same way about their children; I don’t have children and I can’t know. But loving someone absolutely is the grace of life, because it includes friendship, sex, and trust.
But returning to the psychedelic experiences: through them I learned to have that same feeling of love toward everything, to understand the law of one, and to let go of longings, resentments, and goals—simply to know from where to act and the right moment to do so.
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| Aquel día |
Q. As your practice has evolved, how has your core message shifted or become more defined over time?
A. It is a matter of believing it. According to what you believe, and everything involved in acting on that belief, you forge an invisible Samurai armor. The key is understanding who you are; the message comes out on its own. You almost realize what you want to say while you are saying it.
But in my case, I am not attached to a message, and even less so in current times, when we are living through a process of collective moralization. Political correctness, health, spirituality, among other things, incessantly seek moral superiority, and I must confess that I am not looking for that.
There are contemporary myths like: “Picasso was a bad person!” All the woke entanglement and the open society monitoring collective morality. Having a message has become quite complex, because when many people think the same thing, it is because someone is thinking for them. There is the Overton window, synchronized media, and all these kinds of mental games.
I don’t have a message; I am the action. I will be known by my actions, and the trace I leave is my only version, for better or worse. And above all, I have the right to be wrong, rather, the privilege. I am an individual who at times acts collectively. I do not intend to be correct, good, or moral; what I do well, I do out of virtue, not obedience.
I am the action, the change, now. I mean the opposite of what I said before.
Q. What kind of internal conversation do you hope a viewer has with themselves when they spend time with your work? What is the "echo" you hope stays with them?
A. I expect nothing. I paint as a process of personal evolution; it is a mystical dance. I paint to pay the bills. I paint so they allow me to be the madman of the tarot.
For a long time now I haven’t paid attention to what others think. I know my art is useful; I am aware of the effect my murals have in public space. After almost three hundred murals, you begin to understand what happens. I offer my art and they give me money to make art; it is fair. Thoughts are another matter, especially nowadays, when correctness and commitment are sought.
Let them think whatever suits them best. I have already been told everything, in life and in work, so sometimes I suffer from temporary deafness.
Q. Thank you so much for sharing such thoughtful insights with us today. As we conclude our conversation, is there a final thought or a quiet sincerity you would like to share with those who will encounter your work?
A. Everything is about to change. Accept the moment and decipher your plan.
We are in “the moment,” but most people are heading toward the future while barely looking in the rearview mirror. I propose “a moment” of reflection to understand the path and choose the baggage.
What you do today will not be possible tomorrow. Open yourself, let go, plan: the adventure awaits you at the next step.
We have a great opportunity. We can significantly improve our stay on Earth.
Let’s go.
Contact
Artist : Erb Mon
Instagram : @erbmonart
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