Welcome to my casa.

My name is Rubén Alvarez, and I’m a visual artist / creative storyteller based in Mexico City.

My work is rooted in the idea of inner blooming (florecimientos internos), using visual poetry, illustration, and art installations to reflect what we often don’t know how to name: complex emotions, personal transformation, identity, love, loss, inner power and self-reinvention.

I come from a background in graphic design and creative direction, but over time I realized what truly moved me was not aesthetics alone or cosas bonitas, it was emotion, memory, and meaning. In other words: personal stories and connection in any form. So I began creating from a more vulnerable place, blending art with journaling, inner work, spiritual work (like Chöd གཅོད་, the tibetan practice of recognizing, visualizing and talking to our own demons) and even psychological practices like ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy).

Much of what you see here and through my work is an invitation.

An invitation to slow down, to reconnect with your story and to reflect on the parts of yourself that are still unfolding.

Whether I’m painting flowers, writing phrases, or curating installations like Florería Rubén, I’m trying to offer emotional oxygen: a moment to breathe, feel, and come back to ourselves.

I also own an art studio, called Puro Power, which is both a personal sanctuary and a space I’m trying to build for collective transformation. There I host workshops, art exhibitions and creative experiences that help myself and others to tap into our own emotional and artistic voices.

I believe we all carry stories that deserve to be told, not just in words, but through symbols, colors, and gestures.

This is my way of telling mine and maybe helping you tell yours too, through reflection and connection.

Finally, one recurring character in my work is Amador.

He’s a kind of alter ego, a funny, weird little creature I’ve illustrated for years. I gave him that name because it made me laugh: imagine being named Amador (“the one who loves” in spanish), like, your parents name you “the lover.”

What choice do you have but to love, right? You can’t really be a hater with that name.

But behind the joke there’s something deeper for me.

Amador represents my inner demons, the parts of me that are afraid, ashamed, angry, or hidden. Instead of pushing them away, I try to draw them closer. Through Amador I create a visual dialogue with my shadow, with the difficult parts of being human. And what I’ve learned is this: when we face those demons with honesty, they stop being so terrifying. Sometimes, they even bloom.

That’s why Amador often has horns, but also flowers growing from them.

Because even in the darkness there’s potential for growth. Even our demons can teach us something tender and true. Even the shadow can flourish.

Amador reminds me, and hopefully others, that healing doesn’t always look pretty.

But it can still be beautiful.