My artistic style flows directly from my writing. When I write, images rise naturally to illustrate my stories. The text below is the inspiration behind this piece.
I wrote this letter to express my reverence for the waters of the world:
“Dear Waters of the World,
When I look deeply into my life, I see how much I owe to you. My meditative disposition, my peaceful propensities, my sense of refuge—all of them were nourished by you. I grew up on an island in the Caribbean Sea, feeling your presence everywhere I went.
As a child, after leaving the ocean of my mother’s womb, my family life was shaped by you. Our outings were almost always near water, spending time at the beaches of Dorado, where royal poincianas bloomed in radiant red. Even now, when I return to Puerto Rico to accompany my elderly mother, I make an effort to bring her there, to remember my father who drove us to the shore on weekends. I remember feeling a deep natural peace when I sat on Dorado’s warm sand. I would sit in lotus position, long before I knew anything about Buddhism, simply contemplating the shells and tiny sea creatures you offered.
As a teenager, when I could visit you on my own, I would slip away in the late afternoons, after long nights of youthful wandering, and find my friends—and sometimes the boy I liked—by your side. What remains most vivid in my memory are the sunsets you framed, striking in their beauty, offering indescribable peace each time. Again, I sat in lotus position, under the shade of sea-grape trees, my mind quiet, my heart still – meditating, though I did not yet know the word.
Years later, during the pandemic, in the wake of Hurricane Maria and the earthquakes that shook the island, I returned to care for my mother. Puerto Rico was suffering deeply, burdened by political upheaval and dysfunction. In those moments, I leaned into my practice, creating an inner island of peace. And when I needed to be restored, I came back to you. Just as you absorb the heat of the day, you absorbed my sorrows. You breathed with me—my breaths, in and out, followed your waves, your tides providing my rhythm. When I once saw an iguana walking beside me on the beach, I felt that my mindfulness, cultivated on the continental United States, had blossomed into Boricua mindfulness, infused with the aroma of steaming hot coffee.”
From my write-up on the Opening Heart Mindfulness Community’s Website: Love Letters to the Waters of the Earth
