For so long I haven’t been able to write, or draw, or do much painting. It all started when the house that my husband and I bought in 1997 started having problems. Then a lot of struggle. And a lot of decisions that, looking backwards, were bad decisions. Decisions of attachment.
In the end, and after about 7 years, we stepped out and sold. All those years, I was itinerant. I lived in different places, back in the building, out again. Until I finally arrived at a place that is now home. I never thought I would live anywhere else but my house in East Harlem, where so many dreams became a reality, where my son grew up, where I grew up as an artist. But such is life, as they say.
The worst part was that all along, except for the time I spent in Puerto Rico in the beginning, I have been working full time and full strength. I return home every day exhausted and depleted, and even though it was necessary, I struggled a great deal to accept that, at least for a while, I would be a regular person with a regular job, with little time for art or poetry or friendship. I still haven’t accepted it.
I felt really disappointed in myself and my lack of energy. I felt like I was failing in my commitment to my artwork, and I chose to hide and be quiet for a while since I could not find my words.
It’s not that I was completely away. I made many watercolors while on zoom meetings in the pandemic.
I participated in a MOMA project with the Rafael Tufiño Printmaking Workshop, and exhibited with the 7 Women in Movement.
I taught a year-long workshop and took a trip to Puerto Rico with my students.
I continued the Mary Magdalene Celebration, each year.
I even created a poster for the Museo del Barrio.
And also had the opportunity to participate in the Campechada in my town, San German, Puerto Rico.
I probably did a few other things, but was too sad and distracted to even post here. Whenever I sat down to write, I had no words.
Then one day I started working on myself. It took a while to get myself back. I listened to a lot of podcasts and advice, I meditated non-stop (or tried) and started working on believing that I can reclaim my ideal life and my art.
Little by little, things started happening, magic restarted. The building sold. I found an apartment to buy, an apartment very close to my mom’s and full of light all day. It took a few months to rebuild and furnish, and then a few months to feel at home. I started writing in the morning before going to work. Sometimes I could only write a sentence or two. I drew sigils with my wishes. I imagined things just like when I was 17 years old and wanted to escape New York. And finally, I started painting.
By the end of 2024 and the first day of 2025, I have 2 new paintings and one in progress. I have a new book in progress. I feel like projects and life are finally within reach.
I have promised my self the following:
Excellent food and nutrition: Nourished
Exercise and flexibility: Strong
Meditation and prayer: Elevated
Art every day: Creative
Business dream into reality: Disciplined
For this I created an impossible checklist: (Today, so far…)
✅ Writing
☐Meditating
☐Breathing
✅ Healthy food
✅ Drawing
☐Painting
✅ ✅ Blog
☐Yoga
☐Walking
☐Products
✅ Contact a friend
☐Planning
✅ Gratitude
This is the plan. Which translates into living every day the way I want to live every day, even if I still have a job and haven’t quite liberated myself from the aftershocks of the art-life-shaking events.
I have so much work to do, it’s scary. But the alternative is staying in place, in a place that while significant and of service to humanity, is not what my soul wants.
I have had the opportunity to learn so many things about myself during this period. And the main thing that stands out is that I am unable to give up my life-long vision, a vision I realized and lost, but that refuses to leave my heart.
The time is now.