My Skateboards , my freedom, my tools ...

A T E L I E R ( my Landscapes and inks )

My inks

The colour is the place where our brain and the universe meet /Paul Klee

A man without words

"Antídoto" para nuestros tiempos ( ...the Love, Antidote for our times )

Amor - Roma - Amor

My Project ( The Translucent Wings of the soul ...)

País ( 1997-2010)

Collage illustrations

A man without words

A man without words. (Omnia proprietatis iura reservantur) “A man without words”, is a work made on inks painting,(2009) and refers to the loneliness and perplexity of modern human being, facing the world and the immensity of the “otherness”. O.Pippa Nicholls

Variations

Nube

visibilia project

Mapas ...

The Map of memory

IMAGEN 02 olgaNichollsSantacoloma Mapa de la Memoria 02

Árbol de la memoria

IMAGEN 01 Olga Nicholls

Olga Nicholls Santacoloma

Olga Nicholls Santacoloma GLASS

mis Objetos reciclados (My matte white recycled objects)

Portrait flying

My inks T I N T A S

l a n d s c a p e

O.

l a n d s c a p e

pira

VISIBILIA es un proyecto que significa en Latín las cosas visibles ... un lugar para mis imágenes, mis objetos . /O.Nicholls

Objetos de ciudad

Ruta

Olga Nicholls Santacoloma: is a Colombian artist who made studies on textile art first, and latter on visual arts. She is currently working on objects, digital photography, drawings and digital painting. She has participated in exhibitions at the Museum of Contemporary Art and other venues in Bogotá, Pereira and Manizales, and was as well selected for an itinerant exhibition organized by Amnesty International in Canada and in France . “A man without words”, is a work made on digital painting, and refers to the loneliness and perplexity of modern human being, facing the world and the immensity of the “otherness”. “Hommage pour un vélo-flâneur ", is a digitally mediated photography of an old bicycle that I found abandoned in the cellar of a building which, I don’t know why, touched me so deeply… somehow I felt that this object was telling me that it had been once cherished, like all those neglected things that have no use any more, but tell us of someone’s life. It is dedicated to John Rapko, an American writer and art critic, and a friend of mine.