Painter · Miami, Florida
Acrylic and oil on canvas, mostly loud. Several of them carry handwriting — Korean, Japanese, English — because some things are easier to paint than to say out loud.
비밀은 당신의 소망을
현실로 만드는 것은
그것을 이루기 위해
노력하는 것이다
“The secret is that what makes your wish real is the work you do to reach it.”
The lucky cat holds a single character — 꿈, dream. He is not granting it. He is waiting with her.
真 愛 ラブ LOVE
Love, written four times, in three alphabets.
The figure is drawn once and painted twice — once in violet, once in the light behind her.
Creature, Deep Blue
Four eyes, none of them looking at you.
Laid on thick enough that the paint casts its own shadow. The green flecks in the dark are the last thing that went on.
Orbit
Red lines circling a figure, never quite closing.
She stands in the one warm spot on the canvas. Everything else is drips, and the drips are all going somewhere else.
Swan, Jaguar
Two animals that should not share a canvas, sharing a centre.
Everything around them is shattered into colour. They are the only things holding still.
Muse in Lavender
A body assembled out of warm paint, standing in cool water.
The beads down each side are placed by hand, one at a time — the slowest part of the painting.
I've been taking these same paintings — the colour, the thick paint, the handwriting — and pushing them past what a canvas will hold. Digital works, built from my own originals, printed on archival paper. There are eight of them so far.
If you want a painting made for a specific wall, a specific person, or a specific sentence you want written into it — write to me. I take a small number of commissions at a time so each one gets the attention it needs.
The wall or room it's for, a rough size, the colours you live with, and anything you want written into the piece. A photo of the space helps more than anything.
I reply with a price and a timeline. Half up front, half when it's finished and you've seen it. If the sketch isn't right, we stop there and you owe nothing.
I'm Andrea Duarte. I paint in Miami, mostly in acrylic and oil, mostly larger and louder than I plan to.
I'm not going to tell you the whole story here — some of it isn't for a website. The short version: I've been through storms that took things apart, more than once, and more than once I built again from what was left. The phoenix isn't a symbol I picked because it looked good. It's the most honest word I had for what kept happening.
The handwriting inside the paintings comes from the same place. A wish is easier to paint than to say. So I paint it, in a language that isn't mine, and then I go and do the work it asks for.
That's True Love on the wall behind me — five feet of it. People assume the ones with handwriting are small, private things. They aren't. I paint the wish at the size I need to believe it.
Some of these paintings also live on mugs, tees and cases at ADAphoenix — for the people who want to carry one around rather than hang it.
Trained in New York, in the studios where American abstraction is still taught by the people who made it.
Inquiries · Commissions · Studio visits
adaphoenixshop@gmail.comThere's no gallery or assistant behind that address. It's me, and I answer within a day or two.