How Many Years Does January Last?

¿En qué piezas o proyectos has estado trabajado últimamente?
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about analog and romantic projects—returning to slower materials and rhythms. I’m also interested in restoring vintage pieces, giving them a new use and meaning within my home, understanding that gesture as a form of care and re-signification.

I’ve written a lot throughout this process, and many of those words revolve around the same idea: a sensitivity toward what is broken, old, worn, used, weathered, walked-through, felt. There’s a strong identification with everything that carries history, marks, and memory. I understand those who see beauty in that.

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?
I learned that I often choose to see things through their familiarity with my own pains, and other times—more and more—I understand that things are much more than the sum of their parts, just like we are.

In the analog and vintage, a pattern appears that speaks to me: defects, marks, and mistakes often make pieces even more beautiful. In a roll of thirty-six photos, sometimes none turn out as I expected, but almost always something surprises me. And that surprise has become an essential part of my process.

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?
I’ve been thinking a lot about love, sadness, traveling, the sea—and that which can only be healed by seeing the sea—about many doubts I have about myself, and about being at peace with that uncertainty.

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?
There were very important conversations that filtered into this process, especially around love: loving and being loved as one is, boundaries with others, how far we let others move into our own territory, and how much we allow our fears to take control under the idea of protecting ourselves—when in reality, that often becomes a form of confinement.

Some cultural references were also very present, such as the film High Fidelity and the book The Price of Passion by Rolón, which resonated with many of the questions I’m grappling with today.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?
The hardest thing has been dealing with imposter syndrome alongside the constant need to produce and publish in order to sustain a creative identity. In that process, the challenge of detaching from results also emerged—of not measuring the value of what I do solely based on immediate response. Learning to trust the process, even without external validation, has been one of the most complex parts of this creative moment.

¿Cuál es tu restaurante favorito y que nos recomiendas pedir?
I have two classic favorites. One is Cocina Gardenia, where I recommend the cucumber and melon salad with tahini, mint, and chili oil dressing, along with fried mac and cheese with béchamel, lemon, and sauce. The other is Barloa, for a good steak and a beer.

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?
It would be called How Many Years Does January Last?. Soundtrack: “malibU” by Rusowsky.

Which studios, laboratories, or workshops have you collaborated with recently or would you like to collaborate with in the future?
Right now, I’d like to collaborate and explore more with photographers from Mendoza, especially in more editorial proposals where I can participate both in front of and behind the camera, integrating perspective, styling, and creative direction. I’m truly open to everything.

I’m also part of Ritual, a project that promotes local art and independent national design in Mendoza through traveling events. Our most recent collaboration was with Proyecto Uest, a platform for visibility, incubation, and connection for emerging design. In the future, I’d love to collaborate with artists whose imprint I admire, such as Paloma Domian, for her way of communicating, her styling, and her approach to curating spaces, pieces, and even vintage music.

Recommend one or more artists you follow who inspire you, and tell us what you like most about their work or their way of working.
I’m inspired by artists who have a very personal way of seeing the world and translating that perspective into pieces, images, and forms of communication. I closely follow the work of Sayanie and Mel because I admire how each of them builds a distinct and coherent universe, whether through clothing or analog photography.