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For most of my life, I followed the path that made sense.
I grew up in Chile, studied physical therapy, moved to the United States for work and built a career I was proud of. Art was always there, but mostly in the background — something I loved, not something I believed I could build a life around.
Then a move to Europe and the end of my marriage changed the plan. I had already left my job. I had savings, a sketchbook and suddenly no clear map for what came next.
So I started drawing. Not because I had a business plan. Because it made me feel good. Sketching gave shape to days that otherwise felt untethered, and made the places I visited feel like memories rather than photographs disappearing into my phone.
Now I’m giving myself a year to experiment with a different question: Can I travel through creativity, contribution and connection?
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