Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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This installation is a six-page letter written front and back to my mother, entirely in Spanish so she and others from my community; can fully understand it. The work comes from a lifetime of translating, of being the bridge so others could feel comfortable, and it rejects that expectation. Instead of bending toward accessibility for dominant audiences, it centers the language and experience I come from, challenging the exclusion we face in public spaces, especially the white walls of galleries and academia. I think about the moment I was labeled a Limited English Learner and how that word, limited stays with you. Marking you as not enough. This piece pushes back against that harm. If non-Spanish speakers want to engage, they must do the work of translation themselves, reversing the roles I’ve carried since childhood. The letter is rendered in brown ink on brown lines, a deliberate gesture toward people of color, grounding the work in identity and solidarity. The frames are built from discarded wood, fitted with plexiglass, and hinged onto the wall like kitchen cabinets; when opened, they creak, echoing the sounds of home. Through language, material, and sound, Speak English! (2026) becomes both a refusal and an offering, a space where my voice, and voices like mine, exist on our own terms.

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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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