I wasn’t planning on relaunching Art & Sol. Truth be told, I haven’t had time to relaunch anything—unless we’re talking about relaunching myself out of bed after four hours of sleep and a hot flash.

But lately, I’ve noticed something: people are still showing up. Even with dust on the site, even with my inbox overflowing, even with my brain bouncing between a podcast deadline, a missing permission slip, and wondering if this new moisturizer will finally make me feel human again.

People are showing up. And so am I.

🌿 Community, Not Just Content

Art & Sol was never meant to be about just events or reviews—it was about us. About highlighting local creatives, building something vibrant and beautiful in the corners people often overlook. Now with Listen, Mija, that mission feels even more personal. We’re healing, we’re reflecting, and we’re unlearning together.

And lately, I’ve been deep in that unlearning.

🔥 From Bible Study to Brujería

In Episode 6: “They Called It Brujería—Pero This Is Home, Mija”, we talked about the history of brujería, curanderismo, and the ways colonization erased our ancestral practices. And whew—talk about hitting home.

Growing up with a deeply religious mother, I was taught that ancestral rituals were “of the devil.” Any curiosity about Día de Muertos, herbal medicine, or Indigenous ceremony was shut down fast.

But now, as a mom of two and a partner to someone who shares my culture, I’m realizing how deeply I want us to reclaim what was stolen. To build rituals rooted in love, land, and legacy. Not fear.

Funny enough, it wasn’t just books or lectures that helped—it was Coco. It was The Book of Life. It was watching my kids connect to something I never got to hold myself.

And it was building an ofrenda and realizing: this isn’t superstition. This is survival.

💭 The Mental Load + Motherhood + Midlife

This season of life? It’s a lot. I’m navigating perimenopause and parenting. AuDHD burnout and overdue emails. Co-parenting drama and trying to carve out space for joy—real joy, not just survival.

I’m learning how to let my rage have a voice without burning down the house. How to grieve the things I never had while celebrating what I do have. And how to let softness live next to structure.

🫶 A Place for Us

So no, I won’t be writing here every week. But I will be showing up when I can. Sharing what I’ve learned, what I’m feeling, what I’m still figuring out.

And I hope you’ll do the same.

This is a space for BIPOC joy. For softness and sass. For community and cultural reclamation. For figuring it all out—messy and beautiful and honest.

💌 Want to join us?
✨ Drop a comment.
✨ Sign up for the newsletter.
✨ Share your story.

We’re building this thing together. And mija, I promise—you belong here.