Paul Flores

Growing up in L.A., he chased old signs, matchbooks, and burger joints with no onions—and somehow ended up an artist. We get into city ghosts, lived-in textures, and camping resets.

In Good Morning Los Angeles, How Are You?, you dig into the city’s constant changes—things disappearing, new things popping up. How has growing up in L.A. shaped the way you see and capture that in your work?

Yeah, growing up in L.A., you really feel how fast things change—places you used to go, people, even whole neighborhoods. It’s like the city’s always in motion. I’m not trying to document every little change, but more the feelings that come with it. That mix of nostalgia, hope, loss, excitement—it’s all there. L.A. has a way of making you feel things deeply, even in everyday moments, and that’s what I try to hold onto in the work.

“L.A. has a way of making you feel things deeply, even in everyday moments, and that’s what I try to hold onto in the work.”

Your work pulls from old logos, ephemera, ads, and other bits of visual history. How do you collect and choose these references, and what’s your process for turning them into something new?

Honestly, it kind of just happens naturally—I’m always looking. Growing up in L.A., you’re surrounded by all this layered history: old signs, faded ads on buildings, random matchbooks at a thrift store. I keep a mental (and digital) archive of stuff that catches my eye—things that feel familiar but also kind of forgotten. When I start working on something, I pull from that. I’m not trying to recreate the past, but more use it as a feeling or texture—something that gives a piece that lived-in L.A. energy. It’s less about being exact and more about mixing things together until it feels right.

"No Onions" is such a great title—what’s the story behind that piece?

It’s an ode to the old burger joints in the neighborhood I grew up in. I usually order my burger special, with no onions.

“I’m not trying to recreate the past, but more use it as a feeling or texture—something that gives a piece that lived-in L.A. energy.”

I know you love camping—does spending time in nature affect the way you see or think about a city like L.A.?

Getting out and camping clears my head in a way that nothing else really does. It slows everything down, and when I come back to L.A., I notice the city more—like the light, the weird little plants growing through the sidewalk, even the sounds. Nature kind of resets my eyes. It makes me appreciate the mix that L.A. is—the concrete and chaos, but also the mountains right there, the ocean, the open sky. It reminds me that even in a city this big, there’s still space to breathe if you’re looking for it.

You also do graphic design and illustration—what are some recent projects you’ve worked on, and do those worlds ever overlap with your painting?

Yeah, they’re definitely connected. Whether I’m doing graphic design, illustration, or painting, it’s all coming from the same place—same eye, same brain. Lately I’ve been working on some design projects for brands and musicians—entertainment stuff that still lets me play with texture, color, and mood. It all overlaps. Like, I might be sketching something for a logo and it sparks an idea for a painting, or vice versa. The lines blur a lot, and I actually like that—it keeps everything feeling fluid and alive, kind of like the city itself.

“It’s about putting something out into the city that feels honest and open, and hoping it finds its way to someone who needs it.”

Where are you skating these days?

I really enjoy South Pasadena Skatepark. But you can catch me on Sundays with Toon Town.

Favorite places in South Central?

My studio at Tlaloc.

@plflrs