Art Posts

Lost in Lima; Found in Guadalajara

Last summer I lived in Lima, Peru, for 5 weeks. It was a lonely and empty-feeling time in my life. It was Peru’s winter, and I had just left a costeño whom I loved in Colombia. After spending half a year in Medellin, Colombia, I thought Lima would be my next creativity-fueling home-base. The empanadas were fabulous and the people were friendly, but the atmosphere just made my lostness feel eternal. When I looked up at the sky I was met with one of two options; white or grey. I think I saw the sun twice the whole time I was there.


Walking around Lima in June was like walking around with glasses that had a prescription slightly too weak for my eyes. Or like using a computer with the brightness turned down. The whole time I felt directionless, like I didn’t know what I was doing with my art or really my life. I felt like I was trapped in this weird limbo state where time was different. After a week of living in Lima, I felt like I had been there a month. After 1 month it felt like 6. Yet it felt like I hadn’t been there all that long either. Like there was a section of time just missing from my memory.

Other than my Spanish class I had nothing anchoring me to this city. Most days I spent wandering around the city aimlessly with my sketchbook in hand. I drew in the park, drew at by ocean, drew at cafes. In the end, I let the interesting people I met steer me.

In this time I developed the idea of “Lost in Lima”, a small body of drawings.

Lost in Lima no. 1

Lost in Lima no. 2

Lost in Lima no. 3

Lost in Lima no. 4


Lost in Lima no. 5

Lost in Lima no. 6

In a way the harshness of Peru prepared me for a bright 180 when I arrived in Guadalajara, Mexico a couple months later. I’m not sure if it was the warm sunny weather, the walkable streets with an abundance of plants and street food or the subtle things that reminded me of home such as 7-Eleven…But I felt my spirits lift immediately. I think after being at a stagnant low point, I was just ready to be happy. I found a room that felt right, in a house that felt right, in a neighborhood that felt right. The desk in my room just feels like a good desk to make art at, the bed is comfy and I’ve honestly fallen in love with these wacky floors.

{Pictured here is my bed the week I moved in; along with my favorite Peruvian sweater, an almost finished sketch, my Colombian department store bag, and my super scratched Romanian sunglasses. And a stack of books I have been trying to read for the last year.}

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