As a painter, I wanted to portray San Miguel de Allende not just as a place, but as a feeling—warm, radiant, alive. The city is bathed in the last golden light of the day, as if the sky itself were setting the town on fire with its color.
From a distance, the silhouettes of the churches rise like guardians of memory, while the rooftops pulse with saturated reds, blues, and ambers. It’s a symphony of pigment meant to celebrate the magic hour—where time slows and everything breathes a little deeper.
