An Inspired Chat with Maria A. Schneider of DTLA

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Maria A. Schneider. Check out our conversation below.

Maria A., it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What makes you lose track of time—and find yourself again?
I lose track of time when I’m drawing in my studio. It’s as if everything around me fades away, there’s only the paper and me. Drawing connects me with my inner world; it’s where I find peace and a sense of flow. It feels like a meditation, an inner journey that brings me back to myself.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m María Alejandra Menduiña Schneider, an Argentine visual artist based in Los Angeles since 2014. My work explores drawing as a practice of presence and introspection, blending poetic hyperrealism with memories of my rural childhood.

I co-founded the Menduiña Schneider Art Gallery, a space dedicated to contemporary Latin American art that hosted exhibitions for ten years. The gallery closed earlier this year, allowing me to dedicate more time to my own artistic practice. Today, I continue my path focusing on graphite and charcoal drawing as a silent dialogue between the visible and the invisible, a bridge between the inner and outer worlds.

Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
I was fortunate to spend my childhood in the countryside, especially the summers I shared with my grandparents. There, I discovered a love for simple things, the quiet rhythm of nature, the bond with animals, eating figs straight from the tree on warm afternoons, riding horses, caring for them, and watching the sunsets.

After almost thirty-five years, I had the opportunity to visit that land again and the town of Abbott, the place where I spent my childhood and adolescence. Thanks to its caretaker, Don José, and his wife, Lidia, who welcomed us so warmly, and to the owners of the estancia, it was a magical experience. I was joined by my child, Wally, and together we shared an unforgettable journey back to that place that holds so many of my happiest memories.

It was a wonderful visit, a reminder that we must never forget where we come from, because in the end, those places where we were happy hold our true essence.

If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
I would tell my younger self: trust your inner world, it already knows the way.

Don’t rush to become what the world expects of you. Every shadow you meet, every loss, every silence will be a teacher guiding you back to your essence.

Your imagination is not an escape; it’s a bridge to understanding life.

Years later, through Jung’s teachings and transpersonal therapy, I’ve come to understand that wholeness is not about perfection, but about embracing all our parts, even the wounded ones.

So I would whisper to that girl: keep drawing, keep feeling deeply. Your sensitivity will be your light, and your art will not only accompany you, but help you integrate everything you are.

Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I’m deeply committed to the lifelong project of exploring art as a path to consciousness.

For me, drawing is not just a visual act, it’s a meditative practice, a dialogue between the visible and the invisible. Through each line, I seek to understand the relationship between inner and outer worlds, between silence and expression.

I believe that true art requires patience, the kind that allows transformation to unfold slowly, as it does in nature. Whether it takes years or a lifetime, my commitment is to remain present to that process: to keep creating, observing, and listening. Because the work of art and the work of the soul are, in the end, the same journey.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. What will you regret not doing? 
I would regret not creating, not letting my art keep evolving freely.

There comes a time in life when you understand that expression is not about perfection or recognition, but about saying what you truly feel.

I would also regret not returning to the simple things that shaped me—the rhythm of nature, the silence of drawing, the companionship of animals, the open fields.

For me, to stop listening to that inner voice that still whispers keep creating, keep feeling, keep connecting would be to lose the very source of my sense of fullness in life.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.mariaschneiderarts.com
• Instagram: @maria.a.schneider.art

Image Credits
all photos are mine