Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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Izquierda, which means “left” in Spanish, is a self-portrait about identity, belonging, and where I feel most at home. I am left-handed, and throughout my life, my left side has always felt more dominant, more capable, and more instinctive. I use this physical experience as a metaphor for my cultural identity. Although I was born in the United States, I feel deeply connected to México, its culture, and my family’s roots. The composition moves from México to Jalisco, then to the United States and California. The darker paintings represent the countries, while the lighter paintings represent the states within their respective regions. This movement reflects the layered nature of my identity and the ways these places exist within me simultaneously.

At the same time, Izquierda speaks to the feeling of being left out. In the United States, I have often felt as though I am positioned on the outside, as if I am expected to choose one identity over another in order to belong. But I refuse that choice. I belong to both México and the United States, even when that belonging is questioned or made uncomfortable by others. For me, however, there is a part of my identity that will always gravitate toward México first, the culture, the language, the traditions, and the roots that connect me to my family and my ancestors.

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. 

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. 

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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