Before I show you who I am


Before I show you who I am,

it is probably best that I

show you what

made me this way, I

love hard and have a tendency to fall quickly, I

am what you call,


but I

feel the need to perhaps enlighten you as to why I


the way that I am

Conversations with a fellow writer has had me wondering, if perhaps there is a way to maybe

just maybe

look back without crying

maybe you have to be ready

And perhaps I should tell you

that I have always had my head in the clouds

I am this way

I think a lot

philosophize and dream giant dreams

I believe in fairies and look for rainbows

shooting stars, and sometimes I dance in the rain

I am this way, of course, because I always have been, my

father, he lives this way too, dreaming gigantic dreams, he’d tell me these incredible stories of live in New York, and how much the subway cost

and his first car in the states and drive in movies, and diners with waitresses, that rollerskated

these things were like spells to me

they were like these fantastic spells he’d cast, where I was enchanted

He would tell me about La Isla Del Encanto, and how poor he was and how he made toys

in what is seen as Dada art, he

was an innovator before his time

and his spirit entranced me in a way

And so, I kept my head in the beautiful clouds in the starry sky

so as to see them better

when the fall to the ground and become fairies…

facets of who I am are seen in the reflection of a mirror, but also in the art that I paint

and the things I collect

I am a thing collector and I am such,

from the spirit of my abuela, driving to Yard Sales in the state of New Jersey, we’d drive and stop. and drive and stop. and drive and stop. Always.

and stop for yard sales, seeking treasures in the form of vintage jewelry, perfume, books, and toys.

these weekly treasure seeking adventures

are what made me who I am

they made me the thing collector

that I am today

and though I am made up of many things,

it is these that made me:

my abuela in the kitchen cooking and telling stories of Colombia

teaching me to cook, and teaching me the passion of the kitchen


mother grading papers, and showing me what a woman can do

if she only try


father and his stories of Puerto Rico, and New York City

way back when life was easier

he called them the good ol’ days….

these things, they are like characters in my life

figments, like fiber that when woven together

makes up the coat of many colors

that I am today.

The Craftaholic
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” 

-Jack Kerouac

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