Last night, invited by my friend Shanti, I went to see Borda , choreographed by the Brazilian artist Lia Rodrigues. My first impression of the whole performance was: shocking, very trippy, very fuerte , very intense, like a long journey from the body down into the subconscious, being slowly pulled into some huge wave of emotion and dream. A little introduction to Lia Rodrigues. She was born in 1956 in São Paulo, and she is both a dancer and a choreographer, now based in Rio.

I had a dream. Me and Beans were still together. We were renting a place somewhere in North Africa, I don’t know if it was Tunis or Morocco. The owner was trying to scam us, though. But I was like: I am a smart and strong woman, haha. I was talking with Beans about how to handle the situation, and even though there were obstacles, things somehow unfolded in the way we wanted. Beans was worried and tense at first, and then he softened, relaxed, became joyful again. I remember

There’s a building near my place that’s under renovation. Every morning at 8:30 on the dot, the hammering starts. Somehow, that’s how I’ve ended up being pushed into becoming a morning person . To be honest, I’ve actually been a morning person  for a while now: a little over a month ago, we separated. Back then, I was crying myself to sleep almost every single night. I slept very lightly, often jolting awake from nightmares in the middle of the night or early dawn, my chest t

I’ve been wanting to write something for so many days, but I just haven’t been able to sit down and do it. I boiled the leftover jabuticaba skins and turned them into pigment. It’s been more than a month since we separated, but if I’m honest, long before that I was already falling apart every day. I cried every single day, dropping into those completely out-of-control sobs, like someone was pulling my soul out of my body and throwing it into a fire to slowly burn. Now I still

Today is 6/10/25, and I’m sitting in the little house with a courtyard that we rented in Antigua. I’ve made coffee, my hair is wrapped in a towel, and I’m listening to the rain. Volcanos sit in the distance, veiled in cloud and mist. It is the rainy season in Guatemala now. Sometimes the rain comes in sheets, sometimes it is light and close and fine. Antigua is a small city ringed by volcanoes, with cobblestone streets and colorful houses. It somehow reminds me of Cusco and S

Motherhood is often wrapped in images of tenderness, sacrifice, and unconditional care. Yet there is another side, rarely spoken of. It...

Before deciding to get an IUD (Intrauterine Device, a form of long-term birth control), I did a lot of preparation. I read many articles,...

Wendy suggested that I could cleanse myself with basil. Suddenly, everything made sense. In the little shops where I often buy incense,...

There was a flame, radiating countless lights, countless flickering sparks. She danced, leapt, and swayed without hesitation; She was...

Dust swirls slowly in the air, drifting upward like a silent flood, spiral. If one does not linger long under the sun, it is almost...

Since my friends Alma and Dani are visiting Colombia, I thought I’d share some tips and recommendations. Instead of sending bits and...

Oyster, raw, alive. Plump, sweet, briny, carrying the faint musk of seawater, rich as cream. Between the lips and teeth—passion, sensuality, texture. Placed on the tongue, it slides in. Cold, silken. The instant the tongue touches it, the teeth close gently, tenderly chewing. Its savor floods the mouth, and finally it is swallowed, absorbed into the body. Smooth, yielding, without resistance. That act of swallowing: desire upon desire, the moment of climax. To savor an oyster

Once upon a time, in the green hills of northern Colombia, near a small, sleepy coffee town called Minca, there lived a toad. Unlike the others in his family, who could stretch their lives to five, even ten years, this toad’s life was brief and painful. Only a few months. He laid eggs obsessively, not out of joy or pure instinct, but because giving himself away was the only way he knew to feel useful. Alive. On a rainy night, with thunder murmuring in the distance, the toad s

We had nothing planned for today. We woke up slowly, lazily, and had breakfast without any rush. I think I’m really, truly starting to...

25/5/25 Right now, I’m sitting in a small café in this mountain city, with Negra Presentuosa by Susana Baca gently playing through my...

Late at night, I couldn’t fall asleep. Though to be honest, it isn't that late, just around eleven. Beans and I had watched Orlando , a...

Ever since I was little, I’ve known I was a fairy. I loved whimsical worlds. I loved dancing with the wind. I loved molding mud with my hands. I loved leaping barefoot across hillsides. I loved resting my head against the trunks of trees. I loved drawing on my own skin. I loved feeling insects crawl slowly across my palms. I loved cutting my hair however I wished, and weaving leaves into it. I was a wandering fairy, drifting wherever the wind led me, chasing after glimmers of

Summer in Venado Tuerto On my first morning in Cusco, I had a rather emotionally intense conversation. Combined with some altitude...

I'm currently staying at my Airbnb — the kind where you share the space with the host. There's a dog in the house named Quero. He's a...

I like eating a cold, juicy, fresh orange in the dark, after taking a hot, steamy bath. Warm water flows gently, my toes touch the...