I make things because I don't know what else to do with what I feel. That is the most honest answer I have, not the one that sounds like an artist statement, but the one that is true every single time I sit down and let my hands do what they know.
Making is how I process. How I move through grief and disorientation and joy and the particular confusion of being human in a world that moves faster than most of us can feel our way through. Something happens inside me, and if I don't give it form it just stays there, heavy and shapeless, and the only way out I have ever found is through the work.
I used to sneak into my grandad’s shed, brushing my hands over tools and wood shavings like I was solving a mystery. I’d crush flowers in his garden, convinced I could turn them into color. I stole scissors, raided my mom’s crafting closet, and turned the living room into a studio; again and again. She kept hiding her materials. I kept finding them.. I was not trying to be an artist. I was just following the only thing that made complete sense to me, which was that the world responds when you put your hands into it and pay attention to what comes back.
I am based in Mexico City. I have shown work at the Rufino Tamayo Museum and the Franz Mayer Museum, participated in Design Week Mexico City multiple times, and completed a residency in Antigua Guatemala focused on natural dye and textile exploration. I studied industrial design and later moved into experiential design, which is where I began to understand that the most interesting problems are always about how something makes a person feel.
This work is my way of remembering how it felt to discover the world as a child: curious, playful, filled with wonder.
I work across an infinite matrix of materials and techniques, naturally dyed paper, handwoven textiles, biomaterials, pigments, thread, guided by sensory pleasure and by the questions that arise when you sit quietly with your hands.
Questions about identity, feelings, what we inherit without choosing to, about the face we put on in the morning. My practice is grounded in the psychological traditions that have shaped how I understand being human, Jung, Hellinger, Jodorowsky, Freud, and in an ongoing conversation with my own Mexicanidad that I am still finding words for on my own terms.
The work tends to look like a celebration. Color, texture, shape, the particular abundance of things made slowly by hand.
-
Antigua Guatemala
2-week Residency
Natural Dye and textile explorationGracia GT
-
Mexico City
Design Week Exhibit
Sasil- Lamp exhibition. -
Mexico City
Design week Mexico
World Design Capital CDMX
InéditoDiáfano Colección 0- Jewelry exhibition.
-
Mexico City
Abierto Mexicano de Diseño 2016Triade_Studio Home Collection- Furniture Exhibition.
-
Yes! Some pieces are available to purchase, and I love working on commissions when there’s a shared spark.
You can reach out through the contact form and tell me what you’re dreaming of, and we’ll take it from there. -
The short answer: paper, textiles, natural dyes, biomaterials, wax, thread, and whatever my hands are curious about this month. The longer answer is that I work across an infinite combination of materials and techniques guided by the question I am sitting with at the time. Everything is as natural and low-toxicity as possible.
-
Some of them, yes, and I mean that as a feature. Natural dyes are living pigments and they shift subtly over time depending on light and environment. Think of it as the piece aging with you rather than fading on you. If you want something that stays exactly the same forever, a photograph exists for that.
-
It depends on the piece, the materials, and what the work needs, which is a more honest answer than a number. Most commissions take between four and ten weeks from concept to delivery. I will give you a realistic timeline when we talk about the project, and I will not rush something that needs more time. Good things, slow hands.
-
Not steal, exactly. Borrow indefinitely? Yes. (My mom is still hiding them, just in case.)