2016

It's been one hell of a year. So much has happened on a personal and global level it's hard to fathom it all happened in only 365 days. All in all, I have a lot to be grateful for. The passing of time is no stranger to me, si I'd like to recap things that happened, stopped happening, or changed.

January held my very first "adult job", but little did I know that I would be meeting my second family as well.

When I became a part of C+A, It was my first time being hired as a full-time employee and not just an intern. I remember being nerve-wracked, excited and simultaneously scared because there was no room for fuck-ups this time around. Needless to say, I'm only human and I did in fact screw up a time or two (or fifty) but not without learning lessons to make everything worth it. I sent clients files with typos and red squares that had nothing to do being placed where they were. I asked a jillion questions and drove my peers crazy. I spent all nighters at the office making 500 slide presentations, learned to speak to difficult clients and occasionally cried in the bathroom because I guess I've always had a knack of learning things the hard way.

But I also designed my first brands that would get released into the public. This made me realize that the work I do has meaning and a very tangible impact on people. This of course means I have a responsibility to design things that will create or enhance positive environments. Art and design has such a large role in change; may we never forget this. Amongst things I've learned from my work this year, are the following: I learned to manage my time flawlessly and spread my wings. I learned that my boss isn't as scary as he, (or we) make him out to be. I learned about architecture and industrial design. I learned to design interiors. I learned how to make beautiful mockups and follow a practically full-proof methodology. I learned to speak up when needed and to humbly listen in order to learn. I learned that science sells better that intuition. I learned to identify different people's communication styles and adapt to them.  I learned to collaborate, and that work doesn't have to exclude play. I learned what it feels like to belong, to want and be wanted, and most of all, I learned what it's like to make a difference in someone else's life. For this im eternally grateful.

In February, someone broke my heart. Or perhaps I broke my own. This fact is still in question.
Long story-short. He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious? (Avril Lavigne reference, kudos to you if you got it). But anyway, we had amazing chemistry. We'd been seeing each other for about a year and a half, that is until things changed. Brutally. I won't go into specifics but he started seeing someone else, and I felt cheated, and furious but mostly hurt. I felt a part of me die that night. The wound was deep and I, momentarily and unavoidably, spiraled downwards. During this period I was forced to face a reality I'd been denying for much too long. You can love someone fiercely, but the fiery, passionate love won't enough. You need patience, dedication, a strong will and slow-cooked, every day candid, love, if you want to go the distance. And the only distance he was interested in was the middle east, alone.
Now, I'm someone who doesn't like to sit still for long, so from day one, I decided to go to therapy to heal as fast as possible and to assure that the pain wouldn't leave any unwanted residue. No trust issues or shit like that. Needless to say, I got back on my feet pretty quickly. By no means was it easy, but I put in enough mental, emotional and physical work to make it happen and regain the self-worth I though I'd lost along the way. Turns out I never did, it just needed some polishing.

This life transition led me to the love of my life. I started talking to a boy I'd known for a few years but never really spoke to often. He worked a block away, and soon enough, between street-blended juices, he became my confident. He saw me at my absolute worst, through sobs, and nose blows. Once he told me I looked like a crazy cat lady, baggy sweater, puffy eyes, bare-faced and all.  I smiled, grateful for his sincerity. Slowly, steadily, our relationship became intimate. And not the Netflix and chill kind of intimate, more like kindling a small fire in the woods, in the middle of a blustery night. He was warm and kind and felt a lot like home. We went to museums, painted, made sushi, rode our bikes to work together, until I began to feel giddy and child-like around him. Our feelings surfaced, like light seeping out through the cracks of our hearts. He liked me. He liked me! I liked him back! It felt like one of natures miracles. Things that bloom, perfectly, at the right time. And so it goes...By May, my previously deserted heart had become a rainforest.

Since then a lot has happened between us. Things I never imagined doing or feeling in such a short amount of time. We travelled. First it was small roadtrips to towns nearby. Santiago was first. We drove over there at 5:00am just so we could watch the sun rise. Next was Parras, where we rode horses amongst vineyards. Later we went to Cd.Victoria, where we stayed in his childhood home, and lastly, we had the opportunity to travel to Oaxaca, for one of his best friends wedding. Oaxaca was extra spacial to me because just one year prior, I'd conducted my thesis on Oax's artisans and artistry. I felt egar to show him my favorite places in such a beautiful, colonial city. I fell even more in love with him on this final, magical trip.

Summing up 2016, I painted a lot. Discovered chineese ink. Had my heart broken. Hurt someone along the way. Fell madly in love. Grew professionally. Made new friends and discovered new talents I didn't know I had. I feel happy. I feel balanced, like everything is falling into place. 2016 taught me lessons I'll surely need the rest of my life. I learned how to let go, and to make friends, or at least peace, with my demons. I learned people come and go precisely when they must. I learned that the only way to do things is to do them. That we really do pave our own destinies. I learned to work hard and under immense amounts of pressure. I learned that I'm resilient. I learned to give, but I also learned how to receive. I read good books, drank good coffee, took great photographs and plan to continue to do so.

May 2017 bring what it must bring.
Welcome.

Querido,
Se aproxima una primera vez.
estoy cansada, mis párpados se cierran en contra de mi voluntad,
pero te escribo, porque me es urgente que me leas.

Se aproxima una primera vez y con la edad uno se da cuenta que estos momentos se vuelven más escasos, y con mayor separación entre sí.
De pequeña todo era nuevo, cada aroma, emoción, alimento,
Las primeras veces de la infancia se les recibe con naturalidad y con poca reflexión.

Se aproxima una primera vez y me siento eufórica de que suceda contigo.
La primera vez de la aventura, del vuelo, de nueva tierra.

Te quiero en todas tus etapas.

Te quiero pequeño,
chimuelo y travieso,
te quiero entre la ropa,
te quiero como se quiere a la primavera.
Pero te quiero más hoy.
A punto de embarcar en esta primera vez conmigo.

Te veo junto al amanecer.

Todo mi cariño,
tu amada.

Hace tiempo que no me enfrentaba con una pagina en blanco;
Con la valentía de mirar dentro del charco, en vez de chapotear en él.
Y ahora me pregunto
¿que hacer con una página seca,
y una sonrisa dorada?

Le has otorgado una nueva definición al cielo,
a las estrellas, a los atardeceres.
A todas esas cursilerias
que la gente pretenden conocer,
una vez al mes,
cuando la luna esta llena
y los corazones vacíos.

Resulta que todos quieren ser poetas.

Vivimos entre momentos,
intervalos de pasado y futuro.
el presente nunca llega,
y nunca se va.

Y por lo tanto, nos buscamos
en el viento,
el río,
la rana,
el mar.
Qué importa.
Todas estas cosas portan tu nombre,
una esencia esparcida,
un eco vibrante
que tumba y retumba
hasta llegar a mi.

Mientras miraba la montaña
me tomaste de la mano,
y sin darme cuenta
escribiste los versos más bellos sobre ella.

Así que andamos,
vagos, felices.
A paso lento.
mirada firme.
compás seguro.
paños al viento.

Te dejo un `Te Extraño´

“Te dejo un “Te Extraño”,
 uno que no pese, uno que te cobije 
y te recuerde que pienso en ti.
 Uno que no se compara en nada con el abrazo 
que traigo atorado en los brazos, 
o lo besos que se andan muriendo por ti. 
Pero es un “Te Extraño” 
lleno de mucha sinceridad, 
en esta noche fría, 
donde la brisa me llena y me vacía de ti.
 Te dejo un “Te extraño”
 que tal vez no sirva de mucho, 
pero ojala te consuele el alma.”

On letting go

Long after the rupture, I kept a photo of you in my wallet. I came to realize this about two months after, when as I was buying a pack of gum, or shampoo or maybe bananas. Something ordinary. I was simply going about my day, when suddenly your face unwillingly popped into my line of vision.

My heart fluttered and I hated myself for it.

I looked at the photo in disbelief. Small, monochromatic and threatening. Your eyes were piercing, and my left lobe did its job but too well. Remembering, unfortunately is much too easy. I did something, in that moment, that surprised me. I tucked the photo back into a corner of my wallet where it couldn't be easily seen, but would be kept close nonetheless. Like a token. As if it meant something, even though deep down, I knew better.

I did it anyway.

Long after the rupture, I kept a photo of you in my wallet. Days passed, and as you travelled by my side, things began to change. I learned to skate. I went to therapy. I played my clarinet after four years of neglect. I bought a different kind of toothpaste. I fell in love again.

I still caught a glimpse of your frozen face from time to time in the midst of interchanging bills for receipts, but everytime, my brain registered you differently, as if you were aging. As if the changes in me, were directly correlated to the changes in you.

Time heals all wounds. Even the ones you nurture.

I kept you in my wallet until your eyes became just eyes. No promise. No caress. Until your smile became a curve and not a secret. Until I could no longer hear your laugh. I kept a photo of you in my wallet until I stopped believing you would blink. Until I forgot about the wrinkles in your suit. Until the waves in your hair lost their salt. I kept a photo of you in my wallet until I stopped wishing on your eyelashes. Until you looked more like a stranger than a lover. More like a portrait than a friend. More like a memory, that was never mine to begin with.

And on the day, when I could no longer recognize your face, on the day when I struggled to remember your name, I took the photo, lovingly, between my index and thumb, opened my speeding car window, and let it go.

Don't
forget
the struggle.

To loves that could have been but never were

Hello Lover,

Soft glances over broken bottles
you're getting ready to leave
with the morning air
and I can't stop you
and I can't watch you.
and I can't hold you
back.
because you can't hold back
what isn't yours.
and you certainly were never mine.

sometimes I wonder
if I myself,
was ever mine.

But lover,
that misty morning
in December last year,
or decade,
when our lips brushed
and our bones gasped in wonder,
under the warmth of two hearts of stone,
that moment,
when the universe collapsed
and reformed
in the blink of your eyelids,
that moment,
is mine.

Like the countless others,
when the globe stopped revolving,
to admire
two cold beings
on fire.
All those moments,
that history books have forgotten about
all of them,
are mine.

My mother had taught me
in 2nd grade
that you can't hold on
to anything at all.
Because holding on is sad
it takes away
the ability to live,
and dream
and allow happiness
to enter.

Maybe that is why,
I've learnt to let go
more than to hold tight,
and sometimes,
when the wind asks me,
about the lovers I lost
and the loves I didn't hold close,
I laugh, but do not respond.

I can't tell the wind
or the howling voices
of the universe,
that I've made museums
of human beings
inside me,
colonies of the ways,
they've formed me
live in between my skin cells
and every time
a new person decides to leave
I make a home for them
in the vacant galaxies
of my lungs

So that every breath I ever take
from here on,
smells a lot like,
them,
the loves that could've been
but never were.