I was born in the mountains of western Puerto Rico, on an abandoned coffee farm, where my blacklisted parents took up farming in 1951. In a recent essay I wrote that I was raised between three fires: ecology, politics and art. I have used my art, mostly literary, but increasingly also visual and multimedia art, to tell the stories I think we need in order to take charge of our world, and reshape our societies into sustainable, humane communities that support not only our survival, but the thriving and fulfillment of all beings. Yes, I know that's a tall order, but I have deep faith in our capacity to choose life, to choose each other and our own best selves above mere consumption, and above even our most cherished wounds and prejudices.
This is what I spend my time doing--listening, noticing, reading, imagining, talking with people, asking questions, and then letting it all ferment, or compost, or germinate into writing and artwork that I go back out and share, in the hope that they will open up new possibilities for others.
The other world that is possible must be rooted in the imaginations of people as diverse, in the details of our lives and cultures, as the global ecosystem we hope to save. Our stories, and the connections between them, are essential, if we are to persuade enough of us, in a short enough time, that it’s both possible and necessary to change the way we live with each other on earth. This is my life work. To do it well, I require both creative solitude and silence, and many types of interaction with the wild diversity of humankind, need both urban intensity and wilderness.
The other world that is possible must be rooted in the imaginations of people as diverse, in the details of our lives and cultures, as the global ecosystem we hope to save. Our stories, and the connections between them, are essential, if we are to persuade enough of us, in a short enough time, that it’s both possible and necessary to change the way we live with each other on earth. This is my life work. To do it well, I require both creative solitude and silence, and many types of interaction with the wild diversity of humankind, need both urban intensity and wilderness.
I also spend a lot of time attending to my health, which has been seriously impacted by many of the things I want to change about the world, including the widespread use of extremely toxic chemicals, sexual violence, foreign domination of my country, poverty, sexism, racism, and our society's disrespect for artists, as well as the destructive impact of corporate controlled medicine. I live with severe chronic inflammation, which means exhaustion and pain, and with the effects of epilepsy, multiple head injuries, and a stroke. I also have genetic variations in my cytochrome P450 liver enzymes that make it hard for my body to efficiently dispose of waste and toxins. As a result of all these factors combined, I become very, very sick when I'm exposed to all kinds of chemicals that have become common in our environment. Being around most people, with their scented laundry detergent, fabric softener, shampoo, deodorant, hair conditioner, sunscreen, etc. can cause me to lose control of my limbs, have difficulty breathing, and experience nausea, migraines and even seizures.
At the same time, the glues in plywood, particle board and veneer, the finishes on synthetic fabrics and the foam cushioning in furniture, additives in natural gas and the fumes from paint and vinyl, all make houses and many public buildings a threat to my health. That's why I'm building the vehicle: to save my life, and to do my part in the big collaborative project of saving us all.
