Sandra Leal

Sandra Leal doesn’t need a clock, she is one. If she were an object, she'd tick with uncanny precision, probably while dreaming in technicolor and dancing quebradita in her sleep.

Trained between Monterrey and London, Sandra’s real education happened in the liminal space between “what if” and “let’s find out.” She refers to her tools as “mediums for manipulating light and darkness,” which somehow makes her sound like both a painter and a sorceress.

Her series, The Four Seasons: Anomalies, isn’t your average stroll through nature. Think: ancestral floral AI, burning code forests, suspended winters, and springtime bio-hybrids you’re not sure are plant or machine. Each season glitches, evolves, transforms, like Earth got a firmware update and no one told the trees.

Sandra doesn’t just paint images, she builds visual pressure cookers. Her strokes are erased, re-layered, rethought. Her process is both structural and intuitive, like solving a maze with a blindfold and a disco ball. And while she’s wonky on pitch, her obsession with music, dreams, and space gives her work a pulse that feels almost audible.

She once asked: ¿Cómo se pinta la naturaleza que no está muerta? How do you paint nature that isn’t dead? Lola doesn’t have the answer, but Sandra’s getting close.