“Los sueños, sueños son” comes from a phrase I grew up hearing in South America. It’s an old, not very optimistic saying. When someone tells you los sueños, sueños son, they’re really saying: forget it, that will never happen, you’re dreaming, it’s madness. It’s a defeatist sentence — one I hated for most of my life, and one that stayed with me.
In this painting, I repeat the word sueños — like bis in music, when a chorus is repeated — before finally adding son. The repetition matters. It speaks of insisting on dreams, replaying them again and again in your head, even when the world keeps telling you to let them go.
The figure is stripped down to its bones. For me, that represents honesty — what remains when illusions fall away. The body is fragile, exposed, but still standing. Around it, there are symbols of games, rules, and chance, reminding us that life often feels like something you are forced to play, even when the odds are against you.
This painting is not about giving up. It’s about understanding limits. About learning that sometimes letting go is not failure, but survival. I hated that phrase for years, but with time I understood something important: not all dreams are meant to be chased forever. Some dreams teach you when to stop, when to change direction, and when to protect yourself instead of fighting.
“Los sueños, sueños son” lives in that space — where hope, realism, pain, and acceptance collide, and you choose to keep walking, even if the dream has changed shape.
— MAAS
“Los sueños, sueños son” comes from a phrase I grew up hearing in South America. It’s an old, not very optimistic saying. When someone tells you los sueños, sueños son, they’re really saying: forget it, that will never happen, you’re dreaming, it’s madness. It’s a defeatist sentence — one I hated for most of my life, and one that stayed with me.
In this painting, I repeat the word sueños — like bis in music, when a chorus is repeated — before finally adding son. The repetition matters. It speaks of insisting on dreams, replaying them again and again in your head, even when the world keeps telling you to let them go.
The figure is stripped down to its bones. For me, that represents honesty — what remains when illusions fall away. The body is fragile, exposed, but still standing. Around it, there are symbols of games, rules, and chance, reminding us that life often feels like something you are forced to play, even when the odds are against you.
This painting is not about giving up. It’s about understanding limits. About learning that sometimes letting go is not failure, but survival. I hated that phrase for years, but with time I understood something important: not all dreams are meant to be chased forever. Some dreams teach you when to stop, when to change direction, and when to protect yourself instead of fighting.
“Los sueños, sueños son” lives in that space — where hope, realism, pain, and acceptance collide, and you choose to keep walking, even if the dream has changed shape.
— MAAS
