Ni De Aqui Carpetas
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(W)hole (2025)

Mixed Media Interactive Photo Installation

Materials list: Laser cut circles on Luster photo paper, metal table, chair, thread, petri dishes, X-acto knife, saliva, earwax on cotton swabs, hair, wood (circular cucoloris), black acrylic paint, transparent paper, and light

Room: 88 x 126 inches

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     (W)hole (2025) is a continuation of the work I began last year, using black and white self-portrait photography as a medium to explore identity, confusion, and the emotional process of piecing myself back together. In the earlier iteration, the photographs were submerged in a photo washer, creating the illusion of being trapped beneath glass. My face was pressed against the surface, leaving behind visible smudges—thumbprints acting as subtle, but powerful, signs of resistance and presence.

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     In this iteration, I wanted to push the concept further—both visually and conceptually. Instead of using the photo washer, I created fragmented, laser-cut photographs and placed them inside petri dishes. These punctured images evoke the physical act of erasure, dissection, and fragmentation. The dishes also contain personal biological materials—saliva, hair, fingernail clippings, and earwax. The inclusion of saliva references the Ancestry.com DNA test that revealed a painful family truth: that the man I believed to be my father is not "my real dad."

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     The circular, cut-up portraits inside the petri dishes give the work a scientific, almost forensic quality. It feels like an identity study—an experiment missing key data. This fragmented presentation mirrors the internal disarray I experienced during that time: chaotic, incomplete, but still searching for resolution.

 

     Some photographs hang suspended by a thread—delicate, barely holding on—symbolizing how I felt in the moment I learned the truth. Everything I thought I was, I was not anymore. I felt unmoored, confused, and in pain. The thread represents the thin line between holding on and falling apart.

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     Yet, even in its disarray, (W)hole (2025) is not a hopeless piece. It speaks to rebuilding—slowly, imperfectly. Though the pieces may not all be there yet, there is still movement, effort, and hope. This work captures a moment in the long, nonlinear process of healing and understanding. It’s about trying to make sense of a shattered narrative, searching for answers in places that often only lead to more questions. 

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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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