My Style Didn’t Fit Anywhere—So I Created My Own

For as long as I can remember, music, world folklore, and vintage illustration have been my obsession. Whether it was the drumbeats of a cuban song, the graceful sway of Polynesian hands, or the joy of discovering an old illustrated masterpiece in a dusty thrift bin, these sensory sparks lit my imagination on fire. They inspired a beauty in me that lives in rhythm, in ritual, and in storytelling. 

I wasn't chasing after a "style" when I began my artistic journey. I created because it's what I was compelled to do. Every time I would listen to a hula song, a samba song or a caribbean song, my mind would burst with visuals and stories of heroic confident women, seducing the world with their wit and their kindness. In a world that was scary and dark, I imagined myself becoming these women, bathed in sunlight, in eternal beauty, dancing to the beat of some far away drum. Free, powerful and radiating with movement. 

My work has always been inspired by the beauty of diverse faces, the melting pot of sounds I grew up with in Miami, and the delicate dance of Latin femininity...so soft and strong all at once. There was also my deep desire for island life. My style started as a sort of visual salsa: joyful, textured, and rich with folklore. An homage to the magic that happens when cultures mix. 

"How would you describe your style?" was a question that haunted me. Some galleries wanted "Hawaii art" but my work was not traditional landscapes. Some wanted faceless abstract figurative paintings but my girls were too bold. "Clean, modern tropical art". Not me. I didn’t fit into the clean lines of any one category. The more I tried to squeeze myself in, the more I realized how much I was losing myself.  

So I stopped creating...for a bit. 

One day, looking through old work, it hit me. My Latin roots. My love for old-school glamour. The colors of the islands. The textures of faded calendar girls, the undulating lines Art Nouveau posters. They all had morphed into something I couldn’t quite name...because it didn’t really exist. So I gave it a name: Tropical Nouveau. 

Tropical Nouveau is not just a style. It is a feeling. A mood. A world view. It blends the romance of Art Nouveau with the sun-soaked glamour of tropical calendar art and the joy of Latin culture. It’s my version of escapism: lush, sensual, colorful, and unapologetically feminine. 

Tropical Nouveau doesn’t try to be anyone else. It doesn’t follow trends. It doesn’t tone itself down. It is soundtracked by congas, boleros and ukuleles. It is proudly overdressed and dripping in joy for life. 

The moment I stopped trying to conform is when I began to thrive creatively. Giving myself permission to blend all my passions (music, nostalgia, folklore, color, joy) into one expression. I found the freedom I had always been looking for. I stopped seeing myself as “too much” and started seeing myself as whole. 

And maybe that’s what Tropical Nouveau really is: wholeness. The entirety of being proudly Latina and island-inspired. Of being nostalgic and modern. Of making art that makes people feel beautiful, confident and seen but is also looking in. Art that is rooted in the past but thriving brightly in the present. 

Tropical Nouveau isn’t something you collect. It’s something you experience with all five senses. Custom portraits become symbols of inner confidence. Makeup palettes double as works of art, designed to both beautify your face and glam up your space. Art prints come with their own soundtracks on Youtube. Every piece is meant to be seen, heard, worn, and felt.

At the heart of my creations is this desire to give aloha. Not just to decorate a space, but to celebrate a mood. I want to tell static stories that feel like music. To capture that split-second moment when you hear your favorite song and it lifts your spirit. That’s what I want my art to do. That’s the gift I hope to give.

So, if you’ve ever felt like you don’t quite fit the mold, I see you. And I want you to know: there’s power in not belonging to just one thing. Sometimes the most beautiful creations come from refusing to shrink and doubling down on your "yo no se que". Perhaps your art just doesn't have a name...yet. 

In the mood for some music to inspire you?