Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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Fotos y Recuerdos (2026) emerges from a family photo album archive. These original photographs were scanned and reprinted in sepia tones on transparent photo paper, referencing their analog origins while reclaiming brown as a site of cultural identity and representation. Equally significant are the handwritten messages on the backs, intimate exchanges between my parents while separated by migration, my mother in Atotonilco and my father working in the farm fields of the San Joaquin Valley. I preserved the texts by scanning and printing them on semi-matte paper, maintaining the blue ink of the original pen. The images are physically constructed through layering, with transparencies mounted onto polycarbonate and backed by the handwritten texts, adhered with fragments of double-sided tape. This process collapses time and perspective, allowing front and back, image and language, memory and material to coexist simultaneously. Light passes through the work, casting shadows that extend the photographs into space, giving them weight and dimensionality while echoing digital layering processes in a tactile, embodied form.

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FOTOS Y RECUERDOS

ARTWORKS FROM THIS INSTALLATION

LENGUAS

DELICADA

LO QUE UNA VEZ FUE DELICADO SE CONVIERTE EN SÓLIDO

SOLO VENTANAS

CORAZÓN DE NOPAL

CACTI

IZQUIERDA

Delicada

ME QUIERES MUCHO, NO ME QUIERES NADA

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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