The Artist, The Humble Boy & The Old Lion

A retrospective with profound

words and rare images


Nicolás Hernández

Video Producer


Nicolás was born in Bogotá, Colombia. He is an Audiovisual Producer and photographer with a Bachelor's Degree in Social Communication from the Javeriana University of Bogotá.


He worked for the RCN channel of Colombia as an investigative reporter. In 2006 he traveled to Fort Lauderdale where he has lived ever since. He has worked in different fields of the audiovisual production in independent projects.


He has 15 years working as a producer and video editor in Miami television. At the moment he alternates his work with photography and writing. In 2014 he was awarded with an Emmy® in the category of Investigative Report.


of my Artistic

Self Awareness

I was born in 1981. I had to because there was no other choice at the time. I was forced to learn how to crawl to feed my senses, my act. After a couple of earth rotations, I learned to walk and I ran. The wind finally hit my face. Suddenly, I could see and I saw. The world was sick but I realized that I had the power to still see the beauty in it. So, I stayed. And here I am playing with filters and trying to manage my ego levels.




Joakim Dohundae when I was 15. Juan Nicolás Arturo from 18 to 23 years old. Maximiliano Salazar in my early 30's. Narciso Nicolás Maximiliano when I was around 34 years old and currently, NGHTMRSNDRMS. I am 37.

Names have always been something very hard for me to deal with. Just call me Nick or Nico if you are from where I'm from.


Al mismo tiempo los dos miraban por la ventana, ella lo soñaba y él nunca dejaba de pensarla entonces también soñaba con ella. Sin que ninguno de los dos se percatara los alcanzó un beso amargo que venía volando desde hace tres años cuando discutieron por primera vez. Lo recuerdan al unísono sin ponerse de acuerdo, eran las tres de la mañana, acababan de comerse un pedazo de pan duro que se habían encontrado escondido detrás del horno. Amor, le dijo ella, come tú. Él comió, sacó el mismo revolver con el que había recuperado la bicicleta de su padre y a las dos horas regresó con frutas, verduras, carne una Coca-cola y agua. Ella vio que también traía manchas de sangre. Era comida mal habida, que se pudriría mas rápido de lo normal. Comida al fin y al cabo, dijo él. Esa noche, cuando discutieron por primera vez, él, para que ella lo perdonara, aunque ella ya lo había perdonado, le mandó un beso que accidentalmente voló por la ventana y nunca lograron alcanzarlo. Primero el beso era dulce y tierno pero el tiempo lo volvió mañoso y ponzoñoso. Ahora venía cargado de veneno, directo a matarlos, de amor, de colera o de pánico, pero su propia felicidad los salvó y ellos jamás lo agradecieron porque nunca nadie les dijo que por contados segundos sus vidas corrieron peligro. Todavía no tienen ni idea, par de ignorantes enamorados, acostumbrados a pensarse y a dejar todos los pormenores al azar.


I'm the one that says: "Mmm... How did he take this picture? I should try to do something like that... How do I make it look like I'm not trying to copy it? I will never be that good..." After a month, I'm the one that says: "Mmm... I think I just created my own style." Two days later: "Now I find it very basic, people is not going to recognize it." Two months later: "I'm tired of blue but all my work has been blue." So I begin to use yellow, eventually I'll get tired of yellow as well. This insurgency of my creativity happens because I'm only an - Everyday human - and i just can't become slave of a style or a color. For slavery I already have my work and my socially imposed routines. Instead, this intent of art that I call "My nightmares and my dreams," is my road to freedom and I can't compromise my free will.

What else can I complain about? At the moment I'm obsessed with Salmon and Brown... Etc.






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Embracing natural beauty, composed beauty and the art of beauty transformation. Magazine coming soon.

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