He’s always hankered after a ‘normal’ life but the art of Victor Carlin is as extraordinary as his life, writes Sunita Rappai

VICTOR Carlin’s life could be straight from the pages of a Latin American novel – the kind where spirits mingle with the protagonists, strange events take on an everyday normality and each emotion is heightened by a sultry setting.
Carlin, a self-taught Mexican-born artist who lives in King’s Cross, is the winner of Lauderdale House’s Pride In The House art competition, which is open to gay and lesbian artists.
His work appealed to the judges partly because of the materials he used. His paintings are complemented by sculptures made of everything from road-kill to things people have thrown away – one of his works is a Kylie Minogue doll made from mussel shells, for example.
His life has been punctuated by tragedy but it has also been infused with great courage and determination in the face of overwhelming odds.
Born in Nopaltepec, a village in the Mexican rainforest – or in the middle of nowhere, as he puts it – Carlin, 37, was raised by his Mayan grandmother, a spiritual healer, after his mother passed away when he was seven. At the age of 14, after the death of his father in a road accident – which he witnessed – he moved to Mexico City to live with his brother. Here he scraped a living working in bars to put himself through secondary school.
“I did not want my life to just be in the village,” he says. “There was nothing for me there except to be a sugarcane cutter. I wanted to see more.
“If you think London is rough,” he adds wryly, “you should try Mexico City, especially if you are from the countryside. I had a southern accent, which did not make my life easy.
“I used to work from 10pm to 5am in a bar to make money for school. It was in the opposite side of the city. I was so tired when I finished I would get on the metro with a sign pinned on my chest asking people to wake me up at the other end.”
Having survived the Mexican earthquake of 1985 – “It was horrible. I still have nightmares about it.” – Carlin moved to Acapulco where he worked in a health club and fell in love for the first time.
It was with an Englishman named Ray.
When his boyfriend moved back to London, the two kept in touch. But it was not until Carlin decided to leave Acapulco for the US – making his way across the Rio Grande on a plank of wood with a backpack and $30 – that they met again in San Francisco.
But when Ray fell ill, he decided to leave the US to return to London. Carlin joined him – visaless, he made his way through France, Ireland and Scotland to be with his love.
In 1996, he became the first Latin American to obtain permission to stay in the country as part of a same-sex couple. But times were hard. He had to scavenge in rubbish skips to find materials for his sculptures.
“Life has taught me to be humble,” he says. “Because money was short I decided to use anything to create something to sell, whether it was cigarette packets or feathers and mussel shells. These are things that people think are rubbish. To me they are a work of art just waiting to be discovered.
“I want people to feel comfortable when they see my work. I don’t want to show them something that’s disturbing. There is enough of that in life. I don’t want to see a cow split in half or a used bed with condoms. I want them to feel positive. We are bombarded with negative images as it is.”
His experiences, he says, have taught him to find happiness in very simple things – and to be grateful for what he has.
“I had good friends who bought me oils and canvases when I could not work and had no money,” he says. “I have a tremendous amount of balance in my life. In love I have been very lucky. It is very easy to hate and people tend to take that action first.
“You cannot feel sorry for yourself. I have friends who have so much and have no idea what they have. Sometimes I want to send them to my village for a couple of weeks to see what life is really like.”
Ironically, for a man whose journey has taken him from a tiny village in the heart of Mexico to the streets of London, he is sanguine about his life.
“I did not want drama,” he says. “I just wanted things to be normal so I could have a normal life.”

• Pride in the House. Lauderdale House, Highgate Hill, Waterlow Park, N6. Call 020 8348 8716. Until August 14.