Living a Creative Life. My Story...
THE BEGINNING ~ MY ROOTS
I was born in Mexico, in a small city nestled in a valley, surrounded by mountains.
In my formative years I got to see and experience
the very tail end of a more 'rural' Mexico, a Mexico that is now in most places but a memory.... with elements from the turn of the century still stretching through the streets, giving their "last breath" as 'pos-modernity' was already sweeping through, even before the 'modern world' could set a firm foot in a country of such economic and cultural contrasts...
I grew up surrounded by nature. I wouldn't have known it then, but the clear blue skies, the multitude of trees, the fascinating rock formations, the colony of stray cats that inhabited my grandmother's state, her flowering plants and herbs, the sounds of the birds and roosters in the morning, even the spiders and beetles of bright colors, all of them would settle in my imagination, populate my dreams, and enrich my soul. I grew up loving animals, collecting pretty stones, adoring the woods and the hills, finding enchanting realms through the magical doors of trees...
I started painting and dancing very early in life. My mother put me in a few art summer courses that were a novelty at the time, something that wasn't really available when she was little. My generation saw lots of changes like that... Lots of 'novelties': my mom's generation was the first with broad access to a university education, touched by the raise of feminism and a hint of bohemian culture. The children of this generation, "us", saw a growing availability of private bilingual schools and children's activities... I was dancing, singing and painting as early as 4.... whether in a particular course, at home or at the "theatrical production" that my grade school organized every end of year. However, being an artist was never an option. I grew up surrounded by art and always pursuing artistic activities, but always as a 'hobby', a 'thing to do' never in my mind was it allowed to be thought of as a possible "profession". In the world of our parents 'art' wasn't a career, the image of the "starving artist" deeply ingrained, fueled their fear for their children's future.
My family had musical talents, dramatic talents and visual arts talents that were always somehow underdeveloped but always latent, always present. My mom's youngest sister, a young dancer and visual artist, was persuaded to pursue Graphic Design instead of a career in art per-se, an option that was seen as more "promising"... I have a lot to thank her, my aunt, she never stopped creating and most importantly she passed on her knowledge to her nieces and nephews. In my childhood and in my teenage years I attended multiple hours of "art lessons" in my family's home directly from my aunt (unlike most formal courses that we couldn't really afford, classes with her were almost free and of course the attention was very personalized). From collage and crayola to watercolor, pencil drawings, oil painting following the Bob Ross craze and even origami, my aunt always had a new medium for us to explore and new inspirations every week. I will forever cherish the hours spent sitting with my cousins around my grandmother's table with our canvases, palettes and spatulas.
At age 11 my mom asked if I would like to learn to play the organ. I was undecided but a few months later I took her word and I got my very first -and very small- keyboard for Christmas and a package of classes at the local Yamaha academy. I was never good at composing and I couldn't really call myself a 'musician' but 6 years later, at age 17, I was offered a teaching position alongside my original teacher, and another one as a 'summer camp' art instructor for kinder age kids. My teaching life had started and I had no idea at the time how far it would lead me...
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
