
Ainhoa
Some people need to choose between their creative side and their professional skills. Ainhoa doesn’t. She lives in between—balancing brushes and brand strategies, painting in slow strokes one day, and building influencer campaigns the next. Originally from the Basque Country in Spain, she’s moved across continents—from Bilbao to Barcelona to Melbourne and now Amsterdam—carrying her contrasting character with her: a love for routine and a desire to break out of it.

If someone met you at a party, how would you explain what you do?
Ainhoa: It really depends on my mood. Some days I say I'm in marketing, some days I say I'm an artist. Because I truly am both. I studied advertising and worked in offices full-time for years, but five years ago I started painting again—at first just after work, late at night. Eventually, I moved to Australia because many of my clients were there. That’s when I made the switch and started living fully as an artist. But even then, I missed the marketing world. That part of me didn’t disappear. Now, I’ve found this perfect balance where I do both: some days are for painting, others are for marketing work. I think I’ve finally found my sweet spot.That sounds ideal—but also intense. Do the two sides of your work feed each other?
Ainhoa: Yes, in a way. Both sides are creative. In marketing, I work mostly in influencer campaigns. I design creative briefings, come up with strategies—it’s very people-focused and conceptual. And painting is the opposite in a way: slow, internal, silent. But they help each other. Marketing keeps me connected with people, and painting keeps me connected with myself. It’s also nice to have different kinds of projects. I don’t get bored.
Speaking of boredom—you’re also exploring that theme in your work, right?
Ainhoa: Yeah! Actually, just this morning I wrote something in my notebook about it. I think we’re losing our ability to be bored—especially young people who’ve grown up with TikTok and endless scrolling. But boredom is necessary. It’s where creativity comes from. I’m very active by nature, always doing something. During lockdown, I thought I would go crazy. But then I started painting seriously again and discovered how much I loved slowing down. Now I paint people doing nothing. Just sitting, reading, thinking. I paint those moments of stillness because I think we all need more of them.Where do you find your subjects?
Ainhoa: Everywhere. Sometimes I see people in cafés or on the street, and they’re so focused on something—just quietly present. I snap a quick photo (like a paparazzi!) and then paint them later. One day I’d love to start reaching out to them—so stay tuned, because you might get a DM or email from me saying this time, it’s you who made it to the canvas. That said, I also enjoy keeping them a secret. I like the mystery of it. I imagine who they are, what they’re thinking. I tell stories through them. It’s easier than telling stories about myself
Why is that? Why is it hard to talk about yourself?
Ainhoa: I’m shy. I don’t like being the center of attention. That’s also why I love marketing—but not when it’s for myself. I can build a great social media strategy for a brand, no problem. But when it’s for my own paintings, I overthink everything. How much should I share? What tone should I use? It’s too personal. That’s why I prefer to talk about the people I paint, not about me.How has being from the Basque Country shaped you?
Ainhoa: A lot. I’m from Bilbao—a small city with a slow lifestyle, but also a lot of culture. We have the Guggenheim Museum, we have both the sea and the mountains, and a very rich food tradition. And of course, we also have our cuadrillas, which means your group of friends. It’s not just a group—it’s a community. You don’t have to plan anything. You just show up at the same bars on a Thursday for pincho pote—one drink, one snack, one euro. That kind of culture taught me how important community is, and I guess that’s also why I’ve always looked for it in the places I’ve lived: Barcelona, Melbourne, now here in Amsterdam.“I paint people doing nothing. Just sitting, reading, thinking. I paint those moments of stillness because I think we all need more of them.”
And how’s Amsterdam treating you so far?
Ainhoa: I love it. Dutch people are very direct—just like in the Basque Country. I felt that immediately when I got here. It’s a good mix of people from all over the world, which I also enjoy. And I’ve been lucky: I already had a friend here who introduced me to others, so making connections wasn’t difficult. But even if it had been, I think I would have found my way. Moving countries teaches you that—you learn to trust the process.You sound calm about uncertainty. Were you always like that?
Ainhoa: Not really. When I decided to quit my job and move to Australia, it was the first time I told myself, okay, let’s do things differently. I had always worked for companies, followed a structure, had a plan. But I wanted to give myself the chance to just experience things—to see what it would be like to be a freelancer, without knowing exactly how it would go. It was scary, of course. There’s a lot of uncertainty, and that can be stressful. But I’ve learned to trust the process. I still don’t know exactly what’s next, but I try to let things unfold. That mindset helps me feel calmer now.At the same time, I constantly contradict myself—haha. I always say: I don’t like routine—but I need it. And I hate being out of my comfort zone—but I’m constantly looking for it. Moving to a new country is hard, it’s stressful… and yet, I keep doing it. I guess I’m just a very contrasting person. And somehow, I’ve learned to be okay with that. I don’t need to figure it all out. I just need to keep moving forward.