Ana Liz Cordero

“In a way, I felt forced to study, it never came naturally to me. I wasn’t good at it. We all have different voices in our head. Some of them help us grow, and others pull us down. The key is to listen carefully to the right one. For me, that voice is the voice of God, the voice of the heart. When a voice helps you grow, lifts you up, and gives you strength, that’s how you know it’s divine. But the voice that fills you with fear about the future? That’s not the one to follow.

I decided to become an artist the moment I started truly listening to my heart and emotions. I want to live with passion. Every day, I wake up and create, I imagine, I dream, and I want to share that with others. It's not just about making art or selling paintings; it’s a way of living, a source of inspiration.

I’ve always been drawn to the small details in nature. People often say there’s no nature in Dubai, but that’s not true. You just have to look for it — and learn to appreciate what’s there. I feel a deep connection to birds. I’m also inspired by the mountains, the sea, even the simplest rocks.

What touches me most are the so-called “dead” elements of nature — dried flowers, fallen leaves. I collect them and turn them into art. To me, we’re not separate from nature — we are part of it. That’s why it’s essential for me to create art in harmony with it.

These days, people tend to focus only on technology and often forget what’s truly authentic. But we’re human — not machines. Through my art, I try to reconnect people with their roots, their essence, their natural elements. That’s the responsibility I’ve taken on: to help others slow down and notice the simple things — the things we’ve come to overlook in our fast-paced lives.

We live in a constant rush, always busy, always moving. The reason I created the Freedom series is because I was stuck in a hotel room for fifteen days during the COVID lockdown. I felt like I had lost both my physical and mental freedom. The only freedom I had left was spiritual.

It was in that moment — in the middle of limitation — that I came to understand what true freedom means. For me, creating art is a way to remind people that we are spiritual beings first. We’re not machines. And we must not forget that.

During the lockdown, everything shifted. It led me to reflect more deeply on the value of nature and the importance of preserving my Ecuadorian identity and Inca roots.

For the first time, I started working with sand — a “dead” material — and through my art, I’ve been trying to bring it back to life on canvas. Elements from Dubai also played a key role in inspiring my Freedom series. The palm tree, for instance, is a symbol of strength and holds deep cultural meaning for Emiratis.

I’ve also used white and gold in the series. White represents purity, goodness, and the divine. Gold symbolizes my connection to Inti, the sun in Quechua. In Ecuador, we celebrate Inti Raymi, the Festival of the Sun — a time when communities gather to share food, stories, and traditions.

In a way, I’ve found a similar connection here in Dubai, a city blessed with over 300 days of sunshine each year. Through this series, I wanted to express that spiritual bond with the sun and the elements — bridging my roots with my present surroundings.

I describe my art as organic abstraction — for me, it means taking elements from nature and transforming them into art. It’s a bit like music: you need pauses to truly appreciate its depth. Nature works the same way. You have to slow down and really listen to its simplest expressions.

I love painting outdoors. Sometimes inspiration flows naturally, and sometimes it doesn’t. I always jot down my thoughts on small notes — stories, emotions, and connections that strike me. When I return to my studio, I revisit these notes and begin sketching. Once a sketch resonates with me, I move on to painting.

I choose my colors and materials very carefully. After years of practice, the process feels more intuitive — everything starts to come together organically, just like the nature that inspires it.

I love going back home to my family. I feel so much love when I’m there. Of course, people change — sometimes they’re different from how I remember them — but I try to focus on two things: love and compassion. Because we all grow, and that’s part of being human.

I often compare this to my paintings. They reflect movement, just like life. Every time I return to my country, I notice these movements — these shifts — and I welcome them. Change helps me better understand how to live.

I’m not perfect; I’m simply a human being, a medium for creativity. To me, the most creative artist in the world is God. Each day is a new opportunity to grow, to learn — from life, from others, and from the process itself.

I love waking up sometimes at 3 a.m. — it’s one of the only moments when the city is truly silent. In that quiet, I ask life to reconnect me with my light. That’s what I want to transmit through my paintings: a sense of reconnection — helping people rediscover the light within them. Because it’s there, inside each of us.

As a human being, I have moments of frustration and deep sadness too. But I’ve learned how important it is to surround yourself with the right people — those who help guide you in the right direction. Sometimes, we lose our way. We drift left, right... and don’t realize the path is right in front of us.

We need people in our lives who remind us of that path — and that often starts with being willing to share our vulnerability. The people around us are like mirrors. So ask yourself: what do you want to see reflected back at you? That’s why it’s essential to connect with those who have big hearts and genuine love to offer. Their presence, their ideas — given with love — can help bring you back to yourself.

I believe true love begins when you start thinking about others — when you move beyond yourself and genuinely try to help. In a way, my art is an expression of that. It’s a form of thinking about others.

Through my work, I want people to see beauty. That’s my way of saying: Hello, I’m sharing my love with you. Each painting holds a part of me, and within that, a deep sense of love. And that love — it’s not for me. It’s for you.”

A conversation with Ana Liz in her studio in Al Fahidi, one of the oldest districts in Dubai.