What Miró’s eyes taught me about communication
I recently spent nearly an hour and a half in a private guided visit at the Fundació Joan Miró, walking slowly through the
Miró and the United States exhibition. I then spent another hour and a half going back through it on my own, really looking at the paintings. I left inspired, full of ideas, and deeply moved.
One recurring symbol stayed with me more than anything else.
The eyes.
If you’ve spent time with the work of Joan Miró, you’ve probably noticed them. Eyes appear again and again in his paintings and sculptures. They are part of his visual language, just like birds, stars, moons, ladders, and sky.
I already knew this intellectually. But standing there, something landed differently.
Those eyes aren’t passive.
They are looking at us.
And we are looking back.
Suddenly, I wasn’t just observing Miró’s work. I was inside it. In relationship with it.
That’s when I made a connection to communication.
As speakers, leaders, and presenters, we often think of communication as something we deliver.
A message. A story. A performance.
But Miró reminded me of something deeper:
Real communication is mutual.
It’s about being seen.
And about seeing in return.
Miró’s eyes invite interaction. They don’t dominate the viewer. They don’t explain themselves. They simply remain present, open, available.
They witness without fixing. They hold space.
They acknowledge that meaning is co-created between artist and audience.
That’s exactly how powerful communication works. When we speak, we’re not talking at people. We’re engaging with them.
Their eyes matter.
Their energy matters.
Their presence becomes part of the moment.
Our audience is not separate from our performance. They are part of it.
Standing in front of Miró’s paintings, I felt that exchange clearly. The artwork wasn’t complete without me.
I was part of it.
It was a dialogue.
What also moved me deeply was Miró’s symbolic language. The birds especially spoke to me. For him, birds are messengers between earth and sky. Movement. Freedom. Spirit. Perspective.
These aren’t abstract ideas. They’re embodied experiences. They remind us what happens when we allow ourselves to take up space creatively and emotionally.
This feels especially meaningful to me as a communication coach. So much of my work is about helping people move away from perfection and toward presence. Away from control and toward connection.
Miró doesn’t try to impress.
He invites.
He leaves space.
He trusts the viewer.
And that takes courage.
The exhibition also explores Miró’s relationship with the United States and his dialogue with American artists. What struck me wasn’t influence in one direction, but mutual exchange. Artists seeing each other. Responding. Expanding. Giving one another permission to go bigger, freer, more embodied.
That permission changed everything.
I also felt a personal full-circle moment standing there. I first came to Barcelona in 1989 and was deeply inspired by this very Foundation. Decades later, I found myself back inside it, not as a student or intern, but as a woman with a voice, a body of work, and a lived relationship with communication and creativity.
Sometimes inspiration doesn’t arrive as a big revelation.
Sometimes it arrives quietly, through painted eyes that whisper:
You are here.
I see you.
Now let’s see each other.
That’s what Miró gave me in this visit.
Not just answers.
Presence.
Not just technique.
Permission.
And a gentle reminder that communication, like art, is not about performing.
It’s about standing inside the moment and truly seeing each other.
With thanks to Marko Daniel, Director of the Fundació Joan Miró, and the entire team for such an inspiring experience.
If you’re interested in exploring presence, visibility, and authentic communication more deeply in your own leadership or professional life, you can explore my coaching and training work on this site, or reach out directly to start a conversation.
