Carla Gia

Your work revolves around the idea of duality. How did this concept first emerge in your practice?

Duality never emerged as a concept; it’s something I embody. It doesn’t belong to a specific moment, but to years of self-inquiry and personal exploration… Through that process, I understood I didn’t have to fight my contradictions, but integrate them.
For a long time, I felt the obligation to choose, to define myself as one thing, rejecting and hiding the other. But I’m not one thing. I’m both spiritual and rational, soft and sharp.
I am that paradox: a balanced contradiction. And my work is born from that coexistence.

Even visually, it was always there. Black and white was not an aesthetic decision, but a natural consequence of who I am.

You speak about balance between control and chaos – how do you personally navigate this tension while painting?

I don’t try to resolve it. I move within that tension, my way of channelling what I carry within. There are moments where the gesture leads, and others where I intervene with precision. The balance comes from knowing when to stop.
Control, for me, is not about domination, but awareness.
Chaos is not the absence of structure: it’s movement.
The work exists exactly at that point where both are still present, in a constant state of balance between mind, heart, and soul.

Why do you choose to work primarily in black and white? What does this limitation allow you to express?

Black and white is not a choice: it’s a language. It’s my balance and a reflection of how I live in alignment. It removes everything unnecessary: There is no place to hide.
It forces the work back to its essence: contrast, tension, presence. What may seem like a limitation is clarity.

Your paintings feel both spontaneous and intentional. How do intuition and structure coexist in your process?

Being honest and completely exposed in the process can sometimes be a struggle, especially when I feel afraid of what might emerge, or of what I’m feeling and don’t want to express.

My creative process doesn’t start when I’m in front of the canvas. It begins internally; something I need to process and come to understand over time, through drawing, writing, meditation… through silence and solitude.

Intuition without a state of awareness becomes noise. And that noise can take over the work if it’s not held with a certain level of clarity.

Structure, for me, is about knowing when to intervene and when to let go. Both coexist in a constant dialogue.

How has living between Barcelona and the UAE influenced your perception of contrast and duality?

Living abroad allowed me to experience duality more intensely and consciously.
Stepping away from what was familiar created space: to observe, to grow, and to go deeper within. The contrast between cultures, spaces, and atmospheres; the light, the air, the way each place is felt, heightened my awareness of difference, but also of balance.

Through that process, my perception of duality became clearer and more defined.

How do you want viewers to emotionally or physically experience your paintings?

For me, all emotions are valid: they are part of being human.

I’ve explored pain and love, fear and freedom, uncertainty and certainty, serenity and power. They all belong to the same spectrum. I aim to create a space where something real can surface. Whatever the viewer feels is part of the experience.

You describe your work as a dialogue rather than decoration – what kind of conversation are you hoping to initiate?

Sometimes the most meaningful conversations don’t need words. I believe true art lies in making people question themselves. What I hope is that the viewer enters that same balanced contradiction, and finds their own reflected back.

The dialogue happens internally and continues long after the viewer leaves.