Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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DICHOS


2023 – Present

Dichos is an ongoing black and white photography series that centers Latina women from California’s Central Valley and Mexico. Women who have personally experienced the emotional, cultural, or psychological weight of a specific dicho, or traditional saying. These short, memorable phrases are often passed down through generations to teach lessons or reinforce cultural values. Yet many of them, especially those rooted in machismo, carry harmful messages that have disproportionately affected women and children.

This project reclaims and reinterprets those sayings through collaborative visual storytelling. Each photograph challenges the original intent of the dicho, offering a reimagined perspective grounded in empowerment, resistance, and healing. While honoring the cultural significance of these expressions, Dichos calls for a critical examination of the messages we inherit, encouraging the next generation of women to question, reshape, and transform the narratives that have defined them.

The inspiration for this series came from my mother, who always had a dicho for every situation, just like her mother before her. As I reflected on these phrases, I began to notice how many carried underlying messages that perpetuated machista thinking, even when spoken by women. Breaking cycles of generational trauma means not only identifying these harmful patterns but actively rewriting them. These photographs are part of that process, meant to teach, reflect, and offer a new way forward. My hope is that future generations of Latina women can embrace their culture while feeling more seen, supported, and empowered.

These sayings were a constant presence in my upbringing. But as I grew older, I began to see the limitations and harm embedded within them. I never wanted to reject my culture instead, I wanted to engage with it critically and lovingly. My intention was to transform these expressions from tools of oppression into tools of self-determination. What began as a personal reflection has evolved into a collective effort rooted in collaboration and sisterhood. As someone who has experienced complex relationships with other women, both in family and community, I have longed for authentic connections and solidarity. I’ve been fortunate to find that through the women who have participated in this project: amigas, hermanas, and compañeras who believe in the power of this work.

I’m deeply grateful to every woman who has joined me in this journey. Their vulnerability, insight, and creativity are vital to the process. Each collaboration begins with conversation, we discuss the dicho, what it means to them, and how to reimagine it visually. We work together on the concept, styling, and imagery to ensure the final photograph is authentic to their story. This is not just my work, it belongs to all of us, and to the women who came before us. Our mothers. Our grandmothers. Our ancestors who may never have had the chance to speak up.

The decision to use black and white photography was inspired by Mujer Ángel (1979) by Graciela Iturbide, a photograph of an Indigenous woman walking through the Sonoran desert with a radio in hand. I was struck by how it appeared timeless: a blend of the past and the present in a single frame. That aesthetic informed the visual language of Dichos. The black and white images echo the old family portraits I grew up seeing images of my ancestors, silent and strong. Sometimes I wonder if they live through us, maybe even as reincarnations. Although many of them could not speak out, my generation is beginning to do so, not just for ourselves, but for those who came before and for those still to come.

This project is a tribute to the past (our ancestors and the culture that shaped us), to the present (the women captured in these photographs), and to the future (the next generation of empowered Latina girls/ women).

I intend to continue this series until I have reinterpreted a bountiful amount of dichos, and hope to expand the project to include a range of more diverse Latina women who share a connection to these sayings and believe in the vision. Ultimately, I plan to create a photography book that not only features the images but also includes the stories and collaborative experiences of each woman involved. This is more than a photography project; it is a movement of reclamation, healing, and community.

Dichos Part I: (2023-2024)

Exhibtion

Promotion Video

Women's Her-story Month Exhibition, Warrior Cross Cultural Center, CSU Stanislaus

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Dichos Part II: (2024 - To be continued after May 2026 )

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ARTWORKS FROM THIS INSTALLATION

Me Quieres Mucho, No Me Quieres Nada (2026) is an installation I constructed during my month-long residency at Casa Lü in Mexico City. The work is an abstracted self-portrait built from the emotional residue of the last several years, my experiences within a toxic relationship, betrayal, encounters with men and women in positions of authority, questions of cultural identity and belonging, and the complicated feeling of being loved by people who no longer seemed to like, understand, or accept me.

 

I was thinking about what it means to be “liked, but not liked”: to once feel wanted by the people I loved and then experience rejection, comparison, criticism, or dismissal from those same people. The installation became a space where I could finally confront what I had been too busy to grieve while completing my MFA and navigating everything happening around me. Influenced by female rage songs and women speaking openly about their experiences, I approached the installation much like I approach filmmaking. Coming from a cinema background, I think of a body of work as a film: there are characters, color palettes, compositions, objects, symbols, and a soundtrack. Music by artists such as Japanese Breakfast, Te Vi En Un Planetario, Margaritas Podridas, and Faouzia helped shape the emotional atmosphere of the work. The installation is accompanied by a five-minute poem that must be listened to while moving through the space, making the viewer not simply an observer, but part of the narrative and a forced listener to this specific story. 

Every element carries a piece of the story. The cacti, thorns, tongues, lace, windows, and architectural forms become characters within this emotional landscape, while the pink that consumes the installation operates as both a visual language and an act of defiance. Pink is deeply connected to the visual landscape of Mexico, its architecture, cars, clothing, and everyday environments, but it has also become personal to me. After being told during my MFA that I should NOT make a pink show and, more broadly, that I should tone myself down, be softer, or make myself more palatable, embracing excess became its own form of rebellion. Here, pink is unapologetic. It IS too much because I was told I was too much. The work is filled with small “easter eggs”...the cactus shaped like a raised middle finger, a tongue referencing my former partner, and other details that may reveal themselves differently to each viewer.

 

Returning to Mexico allowed me to reconnect with materials, soil, thorns, architecture, color, and structures that feel deeply connected to my history and identity. Working with these materials became unexpectedly therapeutic. I could experiment, make mistakes, be excessive, be angry, be tender, and, most importantly, make whatever I wanted, which is a very normal part of expressing oneself in a healthy and artistic way. Me Quieres Mucho, No Me Quieres Nada is stubborn, vulnerable, angry, playful, and deeply personal. It is a space where I allow myself to remember what happened, grieve what I lost, and confront what still hurts. I heal through making art; I take what I cannot always say and give it a physical form. Although this installation comes from my own experiences, I hope that its emotional honesty creates a space for others to recognize something of themselves. To feel heard, to feel seen, to confront their own pain, and perhaps to begin healing.

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