Sangre de mi sangre, but you called me child of the north / assumptions bigger than el Río Grande came between us / years after this encounter / I continue to hug you in my sueños while singing our own corridos-that-could-have-been
2025
Woven cotton and linen yarn, gold floss embroidery, cochineal-dyed cornhusks, copal incense, pericón, pinto beans, hibiscus flowers, sesame seeds, purple and white corn hominy
In this installation, the shadows of my grandparents are woven into the very fabric of the piece. Their shadows shelter the crops they once cultivated, embodying a legacy of knowledge, resilience, and the complicated relationship our family holds with the land that sustains us. I find myself reflecting on the bridges built and broken between generations, of the things left unsaid, and the inescapable dance of diaspora—where one’s roots can be planted and continually shifting simultaneously.
2025
Woven cotton and linen yarn, gold floss embroidery, cochineal-dyed cornhusks, copal incense, pericón, pinto beans, hibiscus flowers, sesame seeds, purple and white corn hominy
In this installation, the shadows of my grandparents are woven into the very fabric of the piece. Their shadows shelter the crops they once cultivated, embodying a legacy of knowledge, resilience, and the complicated relationship our family holds with the land that sustains us. I find myself reflecting on the bridges built and broken between generations, of the things left unsaid, and the inescapable dance of diaspora—where one’s roots can be planted and continually shifting simultaneously.