“I’m like an engineer more than an artist,” says Diaz. “I have to see what this is going to look like what, how it’s going to fit in on that proportion of paper or canvas, whatever it is, before I can do it.”
Diaz says that it’s actually the sketch that’s the art for him. “For me, it’s like building a building,” he says. “The magic, to me, is in the sketch.”
After seeing the Witkin exhibition that helped spark his creativity, Diaz became fascinated with drawing human anatomy. He talks about the great wonder of the human body— “this machine that was just created through nature,” as he says— and the rareness of our existence. “It’s unbelievable to me that we’re even here and having this conversation,” he says. It’s that awe over the sheer fact that humans exist that Diaz works to communicate through his art. “It’s so mind-boggling and humbling,” he says.
While science is a source of inspiration for Diaz, it’s not the only one. It is incredibly personal work as well.
“For me, art is purely about expressing my genuine self,” says Diaz. “It’s like a journal. I can’t fake it.”
His art wrestles with the dichotomies present in humanity’s constant quest for understanding the reasons for our existence. He taps into reason and emotion, knowledge and belief. As Diaz explains, “There’s a part of me that is very logical. I like hard science and hard facts. But then there’s also this side of me that’s very esoteric and into magic and mysticism. I think that stems from growing up in a very Catholic upbringing.”
Religious iconography, particularly depictions of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary often seen in Catholic art, appear in Diaz’s work as well and reflect his personal history. “I was such a Catholic boy,” he says with a laugh. As an adult, he veered away from the religion and, over time, his thoughts on it have grown more complicated. He talks about the art that has inspired him that was itself inspired by a belief in the divine. “These guys were the highest level of skilled architects, writers, artists, craftsmen, doing this stuff venerating the religion,” he says. “I think there’s something really beautiful and really interesting about it.”
Religion has pushed artists to the highest levels of skilled creation, “but,” Diaz says, “it can also push people to high levels of destroying each other.” These kinds of contradictions in humanity seep into his art. “There’s a lot of anxiety in my work,” he explains. “Like I said, my work is is a journal of how I’m feeling at the moment and I just feel a lot of the anxiety of what’s out there. And also my anxiety of, do I believe in religion? Do I not believe in religion? And it’s this back-and-forth that just drives you crazy, you know? Is this shit real? Is this not real? Am I guilty for it? You know, the whole guilt and shame thing is all in my work.”
For me, art is purely about expressing my genuine self,” says Diaz. “It’s like a journal. I can’t fake it.”
He adds, “I think that’s something that resonates with people.”
Packed with symbols and visual cues, Diaz’s works give the viewer a lot to consider, all the while sparking the audience’s curiosity. While his images are carefully planned, Diaz says that he’s not particular about most of the tools he uses to create, which he surmises is because he didn’t study art. “I remember when I started I was making paintings on cardboard, and I didn’t even know you weren’t supposed to do that,” he says.
The exception, though, is when Diaz uses vintage paper. That’s where he can be picky. “It has to have a smooth texture and the paper has to be like fine quality in order for me to get the the right linework and shading that I want to get,” he says. “If there’s too much texture to it, it just it’s not going to work.”
Like vintage books and periodicals, there’s a fragility to Diaz’s art, a sense that, much like life, these pieces might not withstand the ages. Maybe that’s part of Diaz’s point. “If my artwork disappears, I wouldn’t mind that,” he says. “If it’s hanging on a wall and it falls apart into shambles, it’s okay. It’s supposed to do that.”
Diaz says that his art isn’t about the ego-boost of making a piece with the intent of it existing forever. “I don’t really care about that,” he says. “I’m just expressing myself in this journal of art.”*
This article originally appeared in Hi-Fructose Issue 61, which is sold out. Supoort what we do here and subscribe to us today here and get our next issue sent directly to you.
