Papel picado is the origin of my dialogue with materiality. Its fragility and precision embody the tension between gesture and void—each cut becomes a breath, each absence a form. I reinterpret this traditional technique not as ornament, but as structure: a language of light and shadow that transforms paper into a vessel of memory. Through layering, incision, and suspension, the material transcends its ephemeral nature, becoming a sculptural skin that speaks of devotion, ritual, and the persistence of craft. 

Metal, gold leaf, and embossing form the luminous backbone of my practice. Working with these materials is an act of devotion: each surface becomes a site of transformation where pressure, heat, and touch reveal new layers of meaning. The metal carries memory—its weight, its resistance, its capacity to hold an imprint—while the gold leaf introduces a sacred luminosity that echoes the devotional objects of Mexican folk tradition. Through embossing, I carve relief into the material, creating topographies of light and shadow that elevate the image beyond representation. These processes allow me to merge craft and ritual, honoring ancestral techniques while reimagining them as contemporary sculptural language. 

Glass beads are my language of precision and devotion. Each bead is a point of light, a tiny universe of color and reflection. The act of threading them—one by one—is meditative, almost liturgical. This slow accumulation creates surfaces that shimmer like textiles, mosaics, or constellations. In my practice, chaquira becomes more than ornament: it is a way of mapping time, repetition, and intention. The beads echo the ceremonial traditions of Mexican folk art while allowing me to construct contemporary patterns of rhythm, density, and vibration. 

Clay, gold, and silver leaf form a dialogue between earth and light. Clay grounds the work—raw, tactile, imperfect—while the metal leaf introduces a sacred luminosity that transforms the surface into something otherworldly. I apply the leaf in thin, fragile sheets, allowing it to fracture, cling, or dissolve into the clay’s texture. This tension between matte and shine, weight and delicacy, creates a surface that feels both archaeological and celestial. The process echoes the devotional objects of Mexican tradition, where humble materials are elevated through ritual and touch. 

Allow me to build volume from fragility. These materials hold memory in their layers: pulp, water, pigment, and pressure accumulating into a skin that feels both ancient and newly formed. I work them slowly, letting the surface reveal its own topography—cracks, ridges, and soft reliefs that echo geological time. Through sanding, carving, and rebuilding, the material becomes a vessel for gesture, transforming humble fibers into sculptural presence.