I am a Cuban interdisciplinary artist whose work grows from the interior—an inner landscape shaped by migration, womanhood, disability, and the quiet endurance required to survive displacement. Across performance, video, installation, and textile-based sculpture, I explore how the body becomes both a site of trauma and a vessel for belonging.
For many years, I created through my alter ego, Cuquita La Muñeca Cubana, inspired by the paper-doll cutouts from my childhood in Havana. Cuquita allowed me to navigate the contradictions of Latina representation in the U.S., satirizing misogynistic and racist stereotypes while critiquing the marginalization of immigrant women in the art world. Through her, I rebuilt a cultural home that did not yet exist for me—one shaped by humor, resistance, and the unruliness of embodiment.
In recent years, my practice has shifted inward. I now work through meticulous pulled-thread fiber sculptures, patiently removing linen strands and sculpting the emerging textures into second skins. This painstaking process of undoing and rebuilding reflects the slow work of healing: memory frays, resurfaces, and refuses to disappear. Deconstructing fabric—a material made to shelter and protect—becomes a way of rewriting the body after rupture. Each thread pulled is an act of reclamation, a careful unearthing of what has been buried.
As the textures accumulate, the material begins to behave like living flesh. Organic forms appear—mounds, protrusions, folds, and subtle elevations. These shapes arise not from intention but from the body’s subconscious knowledge: its memories, silences, and its long history of being shaped, corrected, desired, wounded, or misunderstood. The forms hold the imprint of impact—medical, emotional, social, and structural—echoing the quiet violences that women’s bodies endure across a lifetime. In allowing these shapes to surface, I give space to the body’s unspoken truths, offering form to experiences that often remain wordless. What emerges is not representation, but remembrance: a mapping of where softness met force, and of how the body learns to reclaim itself.
Living with Cleidocranial Dysplasia (CCD) has shaped my understanding of visibility, transformation, and self-representation. My sculptures and performances examine how we learn to inhabit a body shaped by trauma, expectation, and displacement—and how we transform it into a site of power. The forms I create carry emotional truths I once had no language for; they are architectures of survival made visible, landscapes where absence and embodiment meet.
My work exists in transition—between sculpture and the skin panel, object and body, documentation and performance. It speaks to the histories of women’s labor, migration, and the persistence of memory. Whether through Cuquita or through fiber, I am always returning to the same question: How do we build a home inside a body that has carried so much?
I am in a moment of expansion—artistically, personally, and professionally.
My art is the evidence of my survival, and now, it is becoming the architecture of the life I am building.