I'm going tomorrow to Madrid to paint a mural of a blonde girl constructing a sandcastle. I've made several wallpaintings but it makes me nervous. If I do the same thing on a canvas, it takes two weeks but now I can spend only three days. And there will be crowds of other artists and exhibiton installers waching me.

When I'm not painting I'm going to enjoy the taste of the metropolis, remeber that I'm a country man and the buildings in Gran Vía are bigger than trees down here.

Yesterday, I also got some new clothes. My wife wanted to buy me multicolored patterns, stripes and polka dots but I bought only descreet monochromatic brown and grey things. My colors are in my drawings, I don't wear them. Anyways, I think I'm going to look cool young artist in Madrid.

Today, I began doing my installation at Circulo de Bellas Artes in Madrid. I did on the wall the text Odiamos moros, sudacas y rubios with masking tape. The company that does the exhibition installation is the one where I worked few years ago. Now I was telling, as artist, orders to my ex-bosses. The best thing was to have lunch with my old fellow workers. Tomorrow a professional painter will color the wall salmon pink. I think it's the first time I don't have to paint my walls myself.

I've worked also as sales clerk in a kiosk, bartender, clown, model in advertisement, model in drawing class, dj, guide in a vineyard, guide in a museum of contemporary art, quad instructor, English teacher (believe or not!), teacher in art academy, art teacher for children, entertainer, street artist, columnist, art journalist, travel journalist, food journalist, gallery assistant, artist's assistant, expert in intercultural dialogue and coflict prevention for Council of Europe and cowboy.

I live in a small village (population 383) and it's like the heaven and the hell. I have nature but I don't have culture. I have a big house but I don't have friends to invite for a dinner. I have a great studio but the curators don't come to see my work in the perifery.

Yesterday, Jani sent me an SMS from Bali saying it's a paradise but I was in the paradise: picking shaggy parasols and quinces with my wife and daughter. I've decided to dedicate the weekeds to my family, I'm not going to the studio nor switch on the computer. I don't want to be anymore a 24/7 artist.

I did one more drawing for Muestra de Arte in Madrid: It’s a kitschy image of tomatoes and the text says El nigeriano te los coge, la nigeriana te la chupa, the Nigerian man picks them (tomatoes) and the Nigerian woman sucks it (your dick).

Spain exports agricultural products to Northern Europe and needs a lot of cheap labor force, illegal immigrants from Africa, South America and Eastern Europe. Some of these people work in slavery-like conditions.

Sweden has criminalized consuming prostitution services because of human trafficing. It is a fact that in many cases prostitution is forced but if this leads to criminalize buying sex in general, buying tomatoes must be banned too.

Yesterday, I found my all-time favorite prostitution ad in the newspaper: Toca teta y culo por 5 euros, touch boob and ass for 5 euros. I wanted to call but I had a feeling that it wasn’t a genuine ad. In Kieslowski's film The Double Life of Véronique a puppet master arranges a date with Véronique, who was in love with him, in a peculiar way and when she finally finds him, he says that he just did it to generate material for his novel. I’m curious to know more about touching the boob but I don’t call because I don’t want to be anybody’s puppet, though it were Paul Auster or Sophie Calle. If you wish to do it, the number is +34915564451, it’s a normal Madrid landline, no extra charge.

Last night was perfect, while listening Real Madrid's glorious triumph on radio, I made the last drawing for the show in Madrid. Raúl goaled in the third minute against FC Barcelona, our most hated rival. The classic game is more politics than sports: the state capital city's royal (Spanish: real) team against the unoffical national team of Catalonia, daydreaming of a republican independence.

And the drawing, it's about Spanish art history though I don't do art about art, artists, art theory or art history (I do art about much more interesting things, like the real world). Velázquez is Spain's number one artist but there's no disambiguation with his name. The drawing represents the label of Goya Whole Kernel Golden Corn can. Goya is the number two artist in Spain (the number three would be Picasso, too communist to rank higher) and is a brand of foods sold in the united States and Latin America.