Vanessa Castillo

Vanessa—also known as Nessa, the quiet one in the room, and someone who could probably choke you out in a blink if she wanted to. I’m not sure if she actually has any nicknames, but something along the lines of “the BJJ ninja” would probably fit.

I met Vanessa at the same art show where I met Angelina and Nomad. Her work was placed directly in front of the entrance, so the first thing you saw when you walked in was her paintings. She stood there beside them with a very calm and quiet presence. The kind of presence that settles a room without saying much.

At first glance, her paintings look like peaceful scenes from everyday life. Calm landscapes, moments that feel familiar. But once you start talking to her, you realize many of them come from very personal experiences. I remember she had these small canvases, about 5x5 inches. I wanted to grab one, but one of my friends beat me to it before I had the chance.

When it was her turn for the interview, we started talking about her marquee piece. From a distance it looked like a junkyard filled with wrecked cars from recent accidents. But as she explained the story behind it, the room got quiet. The painting was actually of her father’s car after a fatal accident. What looked like an ordinary scene you might pass on the highway was actually a deeply personal memory. She explained that many of the scenes she paints come from photographs she has taken of moments in her own life. This one was from when she visited the junkyard to see the car after the accident. Listening to her talk about it, you could tell it was something that shaped her deeply, but also something she had learned to carry with strength.

After the show, we met again for a one-on-one photoshoot in her home studio. The studio was a small room with a single window, floor mats, and a heavy punching bag hanging in the middle of the space. She uses the room both for painting and for practicing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu with her brother. Her easel sat near the window with an unfinished painting on it, while finished works were stacked and hung around the room. The window let in just enough natural light to illuminate the canvas.

Before we started shooting, she casually lifted the heavy punching bag and moved it across the room like it weighed nothing. Vanessa grew up practicing different martial arts and is currently training for her first Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu tournament.

For the photoshoot, we started by photographing several of her paintings to turn into prints. As we went through them one by one, I started to notice how much emotion was built into each piece. Many of her paintings are filled with bright colors and peaceful scenery. Looking at them, you feel a sense of calm and stillness, almost like the painting itself is breathing.

One piece that stood out was a self-portrait set against a deep red background. She managed to capture not only her own likeness, but also the same quiet energy she carries in person. Toward the end of the session she hung another painting on the wall, a piece of black fire. Compared to the others, it felt completely different. You could see frustration and intensity in it. It almost felt like it belonged to a different emotional world than the rest of her work.

Once we finished photographing the paintings, we moved on to portraits of her with the work. Around her art she seemed completely relaxed, almost at home in a different way. At one point she pointed out the logo on her shirt. It read “Mint,” with a mint leaf at the end. I asked her about it, and she explained that it was her boyfriend’s clothing brand that he’s currently developing. After talking about it a bit more, I found out that she actually designed the logo herself, which didn’t surprise me at all.

Vanessa is the kind of artist who doesn’t say much, but her work speaks loudly. She carries a calm, almost ninja-like presence. From quiet landscapes to deeply personal memories, she puts pieces of her life directly into her paintings.

And if you look closely enough, you’ll see her heart in every one of them.



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