meet the artist
hi.
so, i must be the only mexican in the history of the world to be called megan. but then again, straddling two worlds is the norm for chicanos all over this country “ni de aquí ni de allá,” we say: not from here, nor there.
speaking of straddling, i read once that artists don’t belong to one world; they travel between worlds of the real, the imagined, the remembered, and bring back stories that teach us how to feel. so let’s stop trying to exist in this one-dimensional world, when our souls were meant to travel many.
some of my identities include: chicana, virgo sun, desert woman, yogi, tía, healer, lover—and my latest embodiment—artist. i love ritual, bugs, change, the public library, a blank canvas, la virgencita, and mushrooms.
after college i served in the peace corps in guate; and like many deep-feelers, I moved from teaching gig, to nonprofit, to volunteering. I don’t yet know what i’m going to create, but I know i’m a creator. I believe that change is possible through human connection, enlightenment, loyalty to longing, community, love, and of course, art.
i invite you to follow my journey, however you’d like.
my story
this year, my 36th, two seemingly unrelated cosmic phenomena occurred simultaneously that shook my existence. first, i fell in love with the most beautiful, generous earth angel. second, my city, my country (and parts of the rest of the world) were seized by authoritarian populist leadership and ideology.
my job in the field of diversity, equity, and inclusion became a threat and target of the fascist president. in response, our clients began rebranding their equity investments, and in some cases, divesting all together.
at home though, i took refuge in a cocoon of love where i began to dream of a better world. i recalled my childhood dreams of becoming an artist and i began to paint, dance, write, sculpt, sing, sew and flow; as medicine.
the antiquated, buried narratives of "the starving artist” quickly bubbled to the surface. the immigrant push to be a doctor/lawyer/engineer reverberated in my body. an intense wave of guilt hit me, when i started finding joy in the US hellscape.
at some point, however, the paint on my fingers became the missing puzzle of my life. i started to become the embodiment of my ātman, my true self, and the deluge of truth left me with no choice but to leap. every day, i recognize what an incredible privilege it is to have the time, capacity, and (most of the time) financial stability to follow my desire.
inspiration
i’m inspired by diverse humans. i believe that of people of color, women and girls, queer folks, and all humanity in the margins have uncanny resilience, spirit, adaptability, strength, ingenuity, grit, culture, connection to land, relational skills, lineage knowledge, and ultimately, the power to transform our world for the better. i would like to someday use my art to uplift our stories.
philosophy
once i embraced an art practice, creation became the antidote to the political destruction and technological coup happening in the world, in the following ways:
art recenters us in the power of each the now-moment
it compels slow down and notice, when the world is begging us us to rush and produce
art gives us the permission to play, dream, experiment, tap in to something deeper
it helps us to find and express the beauty, the joy, the ugliness (and everything between) within us and around us.
art brings us back into the body: feeling textures, temperatures, and pressures of materials with our hands, connecting us to the material world around us
when words can’t cut it, art helps us to express ourselves. by dancing to the rhythm of our ancestors, singing our heart’s song, reimagining and creating the world of our dreams.
and of course, in the face of destruction, the act of creation is pure power.
