Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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Lo Que Una Vez Fue Delicado Se Convierte en Sólido (2026) is a work about burying the idea of hyperfemininity and what it means to be vulnerable. The doily, traditionally associated with domesticity, delicacy, femininity, and care, becomes the starting point for a transformation. Across the three works, the doily gradually disappears beneath layers of gruta, shifting from something soft and recognizable into something solid, heavy, and seemingly unbreakable. In the first, the doily remains fully visible, its texture and intricate pattern intact. In the second, it begins to disappear, partially consumed by the material surrounding it. By the third, the doily is almost completely buried, leaving only its silhouette behind. The progression becomes a physical record of vulnerability being slowly covered, protected, and ultimately concealed.

This transformation is deeply connected to my experience of betrayal within a past relationship. After being cheated on, the openness and softness I once associated with intimacy became difficult to access. What was once delicate becomes solid, not because vulnerability no longer exists, but because it has been buried as a form of protection. Gruta becomes a metaphor for this emotional hardening: something that can hold, preserve, and withstand, but also something that creates distance. The disappearing doily reflects my own process of closing myself off from relationships and becoming less willing to be vulnerable. Yet the remaining silhouette suggests that the delicate self has not completely disappeared. It is still present beneath the surface, concealed rather than destroyed.

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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