Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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Farmworkers Feed You  (2025)

Interactive Installation

Materials: Laser cut bandana, Central Valley dirt, Farmworkers’ attire, ganchos (clothing pins), buckets, cement, silver metallic spray paint, wire, two poles, fruit picked from a farmworker, Bluetooth speaker. 

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Song: Te Juro Que Te Amo by Los Terrícolas

     This installation honors the invisible labor of farmworkers those who are too often overlooked despite their essential role in putting food on our tables. I was raised in the Central Valley by Mexican parents who began their American lives as farmworkers, and I draw from my personal history to confront viewers with the reality and dignity of this labor. The piece features a laser cut bandana and clothes suspended between two poles, grounded by cement filled buckets, and real fruit picked by local farmworkers. Central Valley dirt covers the base, while a Bluetooth speaker plays Te Juro Que Te Amo by Los Terrícolas a love song that echoes gratitude, grief, love, and sacrifice.

This is not only an offering to those who work the land but also a direct message: the fruit you consume is born from the hands of the unseen. The strawberries and grapes arranged atop the buckets in their packaging reflect how you, the viewer, would find them in grocery stores reminding us that behind every neatly packaged product is a human being in the heat, in the cold, doing the labor most people choose not to see.

ARTWORKS FROM THIS INSTALLATION

Delicada

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 past relationship, betrayal, sexism, comparison, questions about my cultural identity, 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. 

 

I approached this installation much like I approach filmmaking. Coming from a cinema background, I think of this body of work as a film. There are characters, textures, color palettes, compositions, objects, symbols, and a soundtrack. 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. 

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Every element carries a piece of the story. The cacti, thorns, tongues, lace, windows, architectural forms, and the color pink become characters within this emotional landscape. Pink is deeply connected to the visual landscape of Mexico, its architecture, cars, clothing, and everyday environments, but it has also become a color which I identify myself with in my artwork. I wanted the color to be "too much", because I've been told that I am too much. Instead of letting that hurt me, I do it purposefully in this work. It's a color so obvious that you can't help but see it, its presence. 

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Returning to Mexico allowed me the opportunity to reclaim my narrative and to reconnect with materials, soil, thorns, textures, colors that connected to my 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, ugly, but also beautiful. It's a self reflection of not being perfect, but being honest. I have expereinced many ugly things, but I have also experienced many beautiful things. 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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