detritus elkarrizketa/interview by: eneko etxeandia   Donostia was different at the beginning of the last decade of the 20th century. Charming abandoned buildings could be found in the now concrete-filled new parts of town. Places to be resurrected by underground beings. That’s where we found shelter on a rainy day, and that’s where we learnt that there is a way to make dreams come true in the midst of conventionalism, mortgages and rented flats. It was in that world that I met Detritus, a dark, wonderful and lonely creator. When did you first get involved in art?

My memories take me back to a time when I painted whales on the long wall in the corridor at home. There was always a beaker full of biros and pieces of paper at home. They became indispensable for me. Later on, a class-mate showed me that drawings done with black ink biros get closer to reality, and so that’s a habit I still have. Then I started drawing comics with felt pens. Due to my lack of knowledge, using paint brushes and oil seemed too grand to me when I was at university, they were fine art; but I then realised that they’re just another way of spreading paint on a surface, no more than that.

Nowadays you mostly do paintings, but you used to make posters. Do you still do work like that?

When I was involved in youth activism and the squatters’ movement I started making posters, that was my special characteristic right from the start; I’ve always combined images and words. When my life started to go different ways, my painting carried on expressing its messages, but in a more intimate way, against nature. It’s not against landscapes, the rainy days I love so much, it’s me that’s against nature, loveless because I’m an animal, ashamed to be another sad mammal. From time to time a friend asks me to do a poster for something or another and, as long as I’m not completely unmotivated, I’m happy to.

How do you get your art around?

By nature I’m a loner, but, at the same time, I wait for other people to get in touch with me so as not to feel abandoned. What I mean is that I don’t have exhibitions and I don’t look for chances to show my work, but other people do make this possible. The many attempts I have made to leave the margins have been met with a no, and hearing NO is painful.

Where do you get your inspiration from? What are your sources?

I’m usually inspired by restlessness. I try not to listen to my inspiration, but sometimes it’s so strong that I have to do a painting. When I’m having a good time, something’s amazing me; my inspiration only stops when I’m completely euphoric. When I’m happy I don’t pay any attention to art.

What are your sources of inspiration?

They’re countless, you realise what some of them are, others you’re not aware of. These could be the main ones, in this order: Christian metaphysics, Marvel superhero comics, Freud and surrealism, the dandies, the aesthetes and 19th century decadence, expressionism and, above all, E. Munch and the Romanian thinker and writer E. M. Cioran. This last one is the biggest of all. Until I discovered him, I was trying to imitate, new things attracted me, but afterwards I came across this man who described my character and my mind with love.

Why do you create?

Need, pleasure, vocation ... I paint because of a need to express myself. We can bear the pain inside us better if we can talk about it. At the same time, I want to communicate with somebody. I also paint something that can keep my mind company. In this optimistic society, or society that wants to seem optimistic, the message of desperation is not reflected. So instead of being tedious about my bad luck, and although the subject of my work is dark, I give the world the beauty inside me, I paint to be loved.