THE ARTIST
Born in Mexico on September 1989, I crossed the border as an infant in my mother’s arms.
But the real borders—the invisible ones—were already waiting.
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Between strength and fragility.
Beauty and pain.
Survival and expression.
I’ve spent my life crossing them all.
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At just three years old, I was diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy.
While other kids ran, I learned what it meant to be still.
My muscles weakened, but my inner world grew stronger.
My mother handed me crayons to distract me from pain, but instead, she handed me a new way to move—through lines, colors, and stories.
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As a teen, I rebelled.
I drank to disappear.
But art always found me.
Always pulled me back.
It became my way of staying alive, of screaming quietly, of telling the truth no one wanted to hear.
