Langostita

A crumpled wool blanket draped across a slightly unmade bed, the fabric a deep, muted teal with visible pilling and worn edges that speak of long nights and heavy thoughts. On the bedside table, a closed journal with a cracked leather cover rests beside a flickering candle in a simple glass jar, the wax uneven from repeated use. Soft, overcast morning light seeps through a nearby window, diffused and grey, illuminating dust motes in the air. Photographic realism, captured from a slightly elevated angle with a gentle vignette, creates a quiet, emotionally charged scene of exhaustion, resilience, and private reflection after grief and heartbreak.

Quién soy

Soy una mujer, un poco niña a veces, madre de 3 maravillosos seres, con una relación particular con el mundo y la vida.

Sobre

Una loca intensa, tan intensa que la vida se me ha ido acortando. Escribo para no olvidar, para darle nombre al dolor y hacerle espacio al amor que me ha acompañado toda la vida. Dejo esto para que me recuerden cuando ya no esté.

Leer biografía
A narrow hallway with cracked white walls and a faded patterned runner rug stretching toward a closed door at the far end. On a small side table halfway down, a simple glass vase holds three mismatched wildflowers, slightly past their prime, petals beginning to curl and fall. The only light source is a muted, indirect glow from an unseen room, creating long, soft shadows and a gentle gradient of darkness toward the door. Photographic realism, captured from a low, centered perspective, emphasizes depth and the sense of moving through an emotional passage. The atmosphere feels quietly tense yet hopeful, evoking the journey through loss toward a fragile, hard-won resilience.
A small kitchen table scarred with knife marks and faint paint stains, its oak surface glowing subtly under the golden hour light entering through a narrow balcony door. At the center, a chipped ceramic bowl overflows with fresh lemons and oranges, their textured skins vibrant against the worn wood. Beside them lies a single folded letter, its edges softened from being read many times. In the blurred background, an empty high chair and a hanging dish towel hint at motherhood and everyday chaos. Photographic realism, shot with side lighting and shallow depth of field, conveys bittersweet resilience, ordinary life carrying on after pain and loss.

Esta es una de mis historias, una de las importantes, pero no la única.

Pequeños destellos de mi historia

Momentos sueltos, frases robadas al insomnio, escenas mínimas que no entran en la biografía pero laten igual de fuerte.

A rain-streaked apartment window at night, glass speckled with droplets catching the distant, out-of-focus city lights in tiny, fractured reflections. On the inside sill sits a small, slightly wilted houseplant in a plain clay pot, its leaves drooping yet still stubbornly green. Beside it, an old fountain pen lies across an open notebook, its blank page illuminated by a single warm desk lamp just outside the frame. Photographic realism, shot close-up with the notebook and plant in sharp focus and the city reduced to soft bokeh. The mood is introspective, raw, and quietly emo, suggesting untold stories of heartache, survival, and late-night confessions.

Los míos

A weathered wooden writing desk with a single open notebook at its center, its cream pages filled with dense, slanted handwriting and a few ink smudges that hint at hurried, emotional revisions. A heavy ceramic mug, half-drunk and ringed at the bottom, rests on a stack of dog-eared books about motherhood and loss. The desk is near a tall window overlooking a city in soft focus. Late afternoon light filters through sheer curtains, casting long, melancholic shadows and warm highlights across the paper. Photographic realism, shot at eye level with shallow depth of field, creates an intimate, contemplative atmosphere that suggests a life examined through raw, personal writing.

Volver a Empezar

A crumpled wool blanket draped across a slightly unmade bed, the fabric a deep, muted teal with visible pilling and worn edges that speak of long nights and heavy thoughts. On the bedside table, a closed journal with a cracked leather cover rests beside a flickering candle in a simple glass jar, the wax uneven from repeated use. Soft, overcast morning light seeps through a nearby window, diffused and grey, illuminating dust motes in the air. Photographic realism, captured from a slightly elevated angle with a gentle vignette, creates a quiet, emotionally charged scene of exhaustion, resilience, and private reflection after grief and heartbreak.