Interview with Houston Artist and Activist Maria-Elisa Heg

Houston, the fourth largest city in the United States, and the largest city in Texas, is home to many creative types.  If you are part of the art scene here, then you probably already know this.  However, to anyone unfamiliar with the Bayou City’s artistic community, this might come as a surprise since Houston is constantly promoted as an oil and gas town to outsiders. 

Today I’d like to introduce you to someone who is working hard to create collaboration between different communities in Houston through an event called Countercrawl, and who wears many hats as a collaborator herself, whether she is acting as a photo editor, designer, illustrator, comic artist, curator or activist.  Her name is Maria-Elisa Heg and she is really awesome.  Read on to learn more about what inspires her, the Countercrawl event, and the reasons why she likes living and working in Houston.  For more information, check out her Tumblr.

Stacy Kirages for Fyeahwomenartists: Tell us a little bit about yourself Maria!

Maria Heg: I’m a frantic freckled female fighting furiously for the future! I also love alliteration. When I’m not on the clock as a freelance photo editor and designer, I am at various times an illustrator, a comic artist, a curator, and an activist. At other times, I follow my cats around for hugs and feel personally offended when they run away.

FY: Where did you grow up and why did you decide to move to Houston?

MH: I grew up in a place I like to call World Town (Facebook does not yet recognize this hometown) - growing up in a diplomatic household I moved frequently, about every 2-4 years. While it was hard in terms of building long term relationships with people, it was invaluable in the experiences I had and the exposure to different cultures. I’ve lived in France, Turkey, England, Mexico, and have traveled many places in between.

I ended up in Houston sort of accidentally, having come here to attend Rice University, from which I graduated in 2009. Predictably, I hated Houston intensely when I first arrived, but with the passage of time I realized what an absolute treasure this place is. I’d call it a diamond in the rough, but it’s really more like a diamond in the rough covered in a tar ball that’s coated in crude oil with a sprinkle of lean on top.

The Tale of the House, 2012, Ink on vellum

FY: What do you enjoy about living and working in Houston?

MH: Houston is a unique place where deeply residential neighborhoods butt up against industrial sectors - but somehow do not seem as disjointed as one would expect. It’s cheap to live, neighborhoods are vibrant, and there generally seems to be an extremely strong sense of identity amongst those who live here. Unlike many of the older cities of western Europe I’ve been to, Houston has an unformed quality to it. This lends itself obviously to grave failures in planning and often exploitation can go unnoticed, but also lends itself to transformative change in communities that become the basis for more fundamental changes in the city. And change happens quickly! Just to offer one example, since I arrived in Houston in 2005, bicycle ridership has gone up 60% and the city just dedicated many millions of dollars to enhancing public byways. What a change from the oil-drenched car city I thought I had arrived in seven years ago!

Three Spirits, 2011, Ink, acrylic and gouache on paper encased in acrylic

FY: What kinds of artists influence you? Any other influences - cultural, musical, social, etc.?

MH: A student of art history, I take many cues from medieval art. Although no artist put his (or her) name on his (or her) work, there is a language of symbolic representation that I can look at and fall into as if in a dream. El Greco is a Mannerist favorite, and the artists of the Vienna Secession (Egon Schiele, Klimt, Koloman Moser, et al) have always inspired me in their combination of distinct styles, the heavily graphic element they brought to their work, and their conscious rejection of ‘The Academy’.

Illustrators like Tadahiro Uesugi, Jillian Tamaki, Kali Ciesmer, and the legendary Space Coyote really inspire me (and also intimidate me till I’m hiding under the bed crying into a beer) to be more mindful of composition and color. They are so wonderful, all of them.

I also grew up reading comics like crazy. Some of the ones that most impacted me were Don Rosa’s incredible ‘Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck,’ Naoko Takeuchi’s ‘Sailor Moon’ series, CLAMP - particularly ‘Magic Knight Rayearth,’ and the genre of self-referential comics a la Jeffrey Brown and Lynda Barry. But the thing that really made the biggest impact on me was the discovery of webcomics and self-publishing online. So many comics I discovered and styles I copped from that it’d take pages to list them all. But a few of my current favorites are Meredith Gran’s ‘Octopus Pie’, Dylan Meconis’ ‘Family Man,’ Evan Dahm’s expansive world that began with the epic ‘Rice Boy,’ and ‘Darwin Carmichael is Dead,’ which I love not only because it’s awesome, but because it was created by Jenn Jordan, a medievalist (like me in my undergraduate years), and Sophie Goldstein, a great artist currently attending the Center for Cartoon Studies, which in my secret dreams I think about attending.

Tracker, 2012, Digital

FY: You’ve helped organized a local event called CounterCrawl about three times now, which is super awesome! Can you explain the event for anyone not familiar with it? What other kinds of communities in Houston benefit from this event besides the artistic community?

MH: Thanks! Countercrawl just celebrated its one year anniversary this past July, which was very fun and very gratifying for all of us in the CounterCollectiveCollectiveCollective. To put it as succinctly as I can, Countercrawl is a multi-stop, all day, all free event that takes place once every three months. The emphasis in terms of the ‘crawl’ is to encourage cycling and helping those who many not usually see Houston by bike to do so safely in a group environment. The spots we choose are different every crawl, but each one contributes to the growing community of people seeking Another Way in some form or fashion. Artist run spaces, community gardens, neighborhood centers, and otherwise abandoned lots are where we make our Counterhome.

Artistically, we strive to push the boundary of creating art and experiencing art, to make a synthesis between those who participate in Countercrawl as artists, and those who attend the event. A big pillar of our philosophy is the conscious exclusion of money in the event and, as much as is possible, in the planning of the event. Because so much of the art scene in Houston (and at large) centers around wealthy patrons picking and choosing what art is ‘worthy’ of their support, we in the CounterCollectiveCollectiveCollective decided to provide an alternative. In essence, this is an event by and for artists, but because we place no strict definition on what the boundary between art, artist, and viewer is, we’ve ended up with some wonderfully liminal moments where a piece may encompass everyone viewing it. 

We try to use the event to raise awareness for venues that provide support for their local communities. A couple of examples are Last Organic Outpost, an incredibly beautiful urban art farm in the 5th ward that provides much needed sustenance in what is otherwise a food desert. Joe Icet is the man behind the farm, and he works hard as heck! They always need volunteers! Another spot is The Compound, a community space run by the electric Veon McReynolds. He provides bikes and bike repairs for the Third Ward, often giving people what becomes their main mode of transportation. He also leads the Tour de Hood, a family-oriented bike ride around the Third Ward. There’s also East Side Social Center, formerly Sedition Books, which provides radical outreach and wonderful free workshops.

To wit, Countercrawl is an organically formed event and is always open for new ideas, new energy, and new enthusiasm. We love Houston!

Photo by Giovanni Paz from Countercrawl V

FY: Are there any other organizations or events that you are involved with?

MH: Right now I’m helping put together the Montrose Rock Revel, an event showcasing local music and art. It’ll take place at Rudyards Pub in the Montrose area on August 25th. Then in October I’ll be participating in Houston Zinefest, where I’ll hopefully have an armload of new comics and drawings to show off and sell to anyone who’s interested! And there are many more plans and ideas in the works! Stay tuned.

FY: Describe the room that you are in right now.

MH: Oh God, I wish I had done this a few days ago. I could have told you about my workspace, and all the drawings and art clippings that are on my green wall, and the big heavy desk I work at. My tablet would be in front of me, and my little cats would be sleeping somewhere nearby.

Instead though, I’m out of town and it came to pass that the only wifi I could access is at a McDonalds in Cuero. Well, the walls are of some strange reedy texture. Abstracted, grainy prints of flowers and leaves are on the wall around me, as well as plaques from the Cuero Little League teams thanking the restaurant for providing them with gift certificates. The woman I ordered a coffee from was very friendly, and it came out that this is her first day on the job. There are also brightly colored advertisements for favorites under 400 calories. 

Untitled, 2012, Sharpie on butcher paper

FY: What do you like to do in your spare time?

MH: I love to tend to my garden. We recently harvested the our first okra, and we have some eggplant coming in as well. I’m hoping when I get back the watermelons will have sprouted as well! I also love to read - currently I’m on Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises. I also love to ride bikes and enjoy delicious Texas beers.

FY: Any upcoming projects that you would like to share with our readers?

MH: Countercrawl VI is in the works, as well as my projects for Houston Zinefest (October 6 at Super Happy Fun Land). The Montrose Rock Revel will be a fun time as well, lots of cool art, music, and performance. Otherwise, I’m just getting on my grind. I recently began a collaboration with a good friend of mine and a wonderful writer, Alex Crompton. I hope it will bear much fruit in the months to come.

Thank you for taking the time to talk to us about your work, Maria!

May Stevens: Big Daddy

While on my way back from the Neue Galerie about a month ago (this image post is somewhat overdue and I apologize), I happened upon another space on Fifth Avenue (aka Museum Mile) called the National Academy Museum and School.  I had never heard of this particular museum before, but what made me stop and investigate further was a sign promoting their current show, Women’s Work, which features selections from the museum’s permanent collection by Mary Cassatt, Bessie Potter Vonnoh, Louise Bourgeois, Dorothea Rockburne and many others.  Also, what other show would be more perfect to write about for a blog celebrating the lives of women artists?!  I went back to see the show on Saturday, June 16th and was extremely glad that I did.

The museum does not look like it takes up a lot of space, but there are four floors with multiple galleries as well as studio spaces for students, a print shop, school administration offices and two galleries in the back to display student and faculty work.  The National Academy, founded in 1825, is modeled after the Royal Academy in London and strives to “promote the fine arts in America through instruction and exhibition.”  It is the only museum of its kind that integrates a museum, art school and an association of artists and architects dedicated to preserving the history of American art.

There are numerous pieces in the show that I would like to discuss here, but the work which moved me the most were the paintings by artist and social activist May Stevens.  Born in 1924 in Dorchester, MA, May Stevens devoted her entire life and artwork to raising awareness about issues such as racism, imperialism, war and sexism, to name a few.  She was a prominent figure during the 1960s Feminist movement and also protested against the Vietnam War through her paintings.  Her Big Daddy series is a prime example of how she used art as a platform to voice her thoughts concerning women’s issues and the war.  Below are some images of her work from the series. 

Later on in her career, she started using more words in her paintings, saying that, “Words are everywhere. When I use (them) in my paintings, they describe some of the ideas and emotions that make up that painting. But as they become illegible, they give up their identity to become a thread, a tone, a sound, a passage that is a vital element in the configuration but not necessarily one that is individually distinguishable.”[1] 

Big Daddy with Hats, 1969, Acrylic on canvas


Big Daddy Paper Doll, 1970, Acrylic on canvas


Big Daddy Draped, 1971, Acrylic on canvas


Pax Americana, 1973, Acrylic on canvas


Big Three, 1975, Acrylic on canvas

[1] Moira Roth, “The Art of May Stevens,” Persimmon Tree Magazine (Issue 11), accessed July 12, 2012, http://www.persimmontree.org/articles/Issue11/articles/MayStevens_Paintings.php.

Bushwick Open Studios 2012

This past weekend I had the chance to stop by the 2012 Bushwick Open Studios in Brooklyn, New York.  If you are unfamiliar with the concept of an open studio event, it’s basically an opportunity for both emerging and established artists to exhibit and share their work with the public, their studio neighbors, curators, critics, dealers and any other individuals involved in the local art scene.  I’d compare it to E.A.S.T. in Austin or the Hardy and Nancy open studio nights in Houston.  Usually there is a certain amount of free booze and food available at each artist studio, but you have to get there early if you want to partake in said booze and food.  It’s enjoyable for me personally (and maybe these are the reasons why it’s enjoyable for others as well) because it’s an extremely laid back atmosphere and you can come and go as you please from studio to studio.  Plus, there is the excitement of stumbling upon something truly great while navigating through an unfamiliar territory of countless artistic spaces.

Over the weekend of June 1-3, 2012 more than 4,500 individuals in over 450 separate activities participated in the Bushwick Open Studios.  Bushwick, or Boswijck, literally means “little town in the woods” or “heavy woods.”  Directly from a slick and handy map/publication designed by Collective Assembly specifically created for this year’s event, the B.O.S. “is a self-organized collaborative festival produced by Arts in Bushwick, an all-volunteer community organization.  Now in its sixth year, Bushwick Open Studios is an exciting opportunity for artists to experiment outside the standard context of sales and space competition.  In addition, it provides a space for artists and community members to come together to collaboratively produce an event that showcases a wide range of what their neighborhood has to offer.”

After lunch at Momo Sushi Shack, which I highly recommend if you are ever in the Bushwick area, I set out to explore the space called No Name (referred to as Hub C on the map) located at 56 Bogart Street.  Starting from the ground floor was NURTUREart, a non-profit organization that provides unique opportunities and resources for emerging artists, curators, and local public school students.  Their current show, Videorover, is a group show featuring various video works curated by Rachel Steinberg.  (On a side note, the juror for this year’s Big Show at Lawndale Art Center is Marco Antonini, Gallery Director at NURTUREart!)  I then went on to check out the artist studios on the upper floors of No Name, of which there were a TON.  Among all of the artist studios I saw that day at 56 Bogart Street, the work of Italian artist Cristiana Depedrini in particular caught my eye.

Cristiana Depedrini, born in Milan in 1976, now lives and works between her hometown and Brooklyn.  I was drawn to a small catalogue of her work for a 2011 show at the Brooklyn Workshop Gallery called Invisible Cities/le mie, named after Italo Calvino’s book of the same name.  As a long time admirer of Calvino’s writing, I was intrigued by what Depedrini’s pieces would look like in reference to his text.  The tiny, unassuming catalogue did not disappoint.  Inside, I gazed upon thumbnails and full page spreads of fantastical ink on paper drawings of imagined cities in New York.  In Come Giraffe, the red, blue, yellow and green of a skyscraper island converges and stacks on one another.  The entire structure sits atop an inky black pond and while looking at the drawing as a whole, I can’t be sure if the city is rising from the murkiness or being sucked to the bottom.  By contrast, in UFO, on the left side of the drawing there is a dark, ominous purple and black cloud definitively gobbling up a smaller spindly formation, which could signify Depedrini’s “city.”  Looking at each drawing’s composition separately conjures up different feelings and thoughts, but the series in its entirety creates a network of connected imaginary spaces similar to the cities in Calvino’s book.

Cristiana Depedrini, Come Giraffe, Ink on paper, 21 x 29.7 cm


Cristiana Depedrini, UFO, Ink on paper, 21 x 29.7 cm

Depedrini states that, “Originally inspired by a reading of Italo Calvino’s ‘Invisible Cities’ I began working on a project loosely based on it.  I consider these drawings as its first chapter.  What mostly intrigued me was Calvino’s ability to evoke powerful and poetic images combining words with his imagination.  Soon the book became for me an object of study and aesthetic interest, since it opened up an infinite range of creative choices in terms of how to interpret and translate it through the language of visual art.  Trying to blend Calvino’s imaginary cities and my personal vision of New York, I started looking for signs of the ‘Invisible Cities’ around me, particularly in Brooklyn.  And the more I looked, the more I found: visions of contrasts and ruins, architectural relics, darkness and light, hidden dreams and fears, desires and memories.  All these images helped me creating drawings that reveal the ‘invisible’ into material specificity.”

My experience with the B.O.S. was a pleasant one, but I can’t help but think about an important point that Hyperallergic writer Susan Silas brings up in her article about the Open Studio event.  She mentions that not only is the Bushwick neighborhood composed of various artistic communities, but other inhabitants who do not participate in the art world as well.  Further, she asks, “What does it mean to have these communities converge on the same real estate, in a neighborhood where, unlike other formerly gentrified ones, the housing stock is mediocre and industrial activity is still significant?”  It is definitely something to think about now that gallery spaces such as the mainstream Chelsea gallery Luhring Augustine are establishing a satellite location in Bushwick, making the situation even more complicated.  There is no doubt though that Bushwick will be a place to watch in the next few years as artists continue to move out to Brooklyn and make work to share with the rest of the community through events such as these.


Places in Bushwick 

NURTUREart: 56 Bogart Street, Brooklyn, NY 11206

No Name: 56 Bogart Street, Brooklyn, NY 11206

Momo Sushi Shack: 43 Bogart Street, Brooklyn, NY 11206

Luhring Augustine: 25 Knickerbocker Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11237

Interview with Painter and Printmaker Gissette Padilla

Gissette Padilla was born in Coro, Falcon, Venezuela, but moved to Houston, Texas at the age of 8.  She received her BFA in Painting from UH and her MFA in Painting/Printmaking from UTSA.  Below is a recent interview with the Houston-based artist.  For more information on her work, check out her website here.

Stacy Kirages for Fyeahwomenartists: You moved to Houston when you were fairly young, correct? What do you remember about your childhood spent in Venezuela?

Gissette Padilla: Yes, I was 8 years old when my family migrated here from Coro, Falcon, Venezuela. What I mostly remember from living there was the overall pace. When I first moved to the states I thought it was so large and fast. While Coro is a city, it has a very small town feel. The pace is slow and laid back. Everyone takes breaks and naps in the afternoon. It’s always hard to find any businesses open because everyone is at home resting. It has such a different way of living. While working hard is understood, having time to enjoy the fruits of labor are emphasized a lot more.

Coro is one of the oldest cities in Venezuela. So it lends itself to a lot of history, stories and folk lore. All the buildings are old and have been there for many years. I remember playing a lot in the old rundown houses that were by my grandfather’s house that was in ruins, yet never cleaned or cleared out to make new. For example, my grandfather’s house is very old. It was one of the first houses built in Coro that still exists. The bathroom was added later and separate from the house. The house has its own array of stories that people have added to it throughout the years. It had a very creepy feeling to it when I was young. All the houses have bars on the windows and are made of cement, so it’s kept cool in the heat. I remember La cathedral we would go to on Sunday, and the stone roads near it. The shaggy taxi cars, that sometimes would be missing seats and we could see through to the road while they were driving.

I remember the beaches, and how clear and beautiful they were. Coro actually has a small desert in the city; I lost a shoe in it. The sand just sucked it up, and if you weren’t careful it would swallow you up too. But needless to say, I remember quite a bit of Venezuela even though I was so young when I left. I have my entire extended family there and have visited a few times but would love to visit again as an adult. Life there has totally changed with the political uncertainty. And I will make more work about what’s happened to these places and those people when I’m ready to dwell into the political history of it. It’s a part of my work that has always been on the back burner. Not because I’m not interested in talking about it, but because you have to be ready to deal and talk about it respectfully, visually and intellectually; it’s something I have to grow into to.

Desde Cabimas, 2011, Mixed media

FY: What do you enjoy about living and working in Houston?

GP: Houston is so eclectic. You can experience the city totally differently depending on which side of town you’re on. For the arts, Houston is great. It offers so many great venues for arts, music, theater, and fashion. Pop-up galleries come up all throughout the city, followed by a new crop of emerging artists. Houston is home to a great dubstep following in which my brother is a part of as a DJ for the Gritzy party. From places like Box 13 or El Rincon to the galleries off of Main and Montrose, Houston is unlike any other city in Texas. I get to see works from internationally and nationally recognized artists as well as local artists. Houston has a very trendy vibe, which I believe it’s one of its best strengths and biggest weaknesses.

Here, There, And Who Knows When, 2011, Acrylic, indian ink, prisma, graphite, varnish and airbrush ink on birch panels

FY: Can you talk more about your Many Mini Residency at Skydive?

GP: The Many Mini Residency was great opportunity to work through an idea as quickly as possible. At the time of the residency, I had just graduated from UTSA with my Masters and had to abruptly move back home and wait for my working visa to go through. I needed to work with artist on collaborations that had nothing to do with what my usual work looks like, and /or is about. I kept meaning to work with a few artists before and the Many Mini Residency offered the perfect opportunity to do so. I did collaborations with the Houston comic-strip artist Patrick Hall, German artist Katrin Keller, San Antonio artist Megan Harrison, Waco artist Jennings Sheffield, and screen-print artist Aaron Munoz.

The collaborations had a great impact on my work and lead me to do more collages. The only artists I worked with in person were Patrick Hall and Aaron Munoz. The collaborations with Megan Harrison and Katrin Keller were exchanged via mail. While I knew Megan from graduate school, Katrin and I have never met and decided to play off that and only communicate with the work, which made for some interesting possibilities. The collaboration with Jennings Sheffield was one that had been in the works for about 6-months before she moved to Waco and was recently shown at this year’s Luminaria event in San Antonio.  I’m excited to show a version of it in Houston in November at Box 13.

The Not So Distant Yesterday, 2011, Woodcut, stencil, monoprint and indian ink

FY: Describe what a typical day looks like for you.

GP: I wake up, eat breakfast. I check my email and messages. I look up articles on Printeresting, Temporary Art Review, and Glasstire. I look at whatever I was working on the day before and start to finish what I have started. I have to say, I do spend a good portion of the beginning of the day just looking at what I have done the day before and figuring out what I want to do next, or how I want to continue. Then depending on what happens during that time, I work on the pieces accordingly. I go workout in the afternoon. Take a break till the early evening, and then I start to do the mundane and tedious work of cutting stencils or sewing. I’ve always worked better at night and early day, when there are absolutely no distractions.  I usually fall asleep around 4-5am. And start the day all over again.

Diverge From The Familiar, 2011, Woodcut, stencil, monoprint, indian ink and chine colle on rice paper

FY: Describe the room that you are in right now.

GP: I am visiting a friend in San Antonio, so I’m on the laptop in her apartment. This is in the same apartment complex I lived in when I was in graduate school, so it’s a bit of déjà vu for me. It is a two-story town home with cream colored walls. I am sitting on the red ochre hand me down couch with the laptop on my lap. The TV is on a random channel and I’m listening to the Alabama Shakes as I type out the answers to these interview questions. There are a stack of newly burned albums on the coffee table along with three half full plastic bottles, and a shot glass with three quarters in it. There are four different pairs of sneakers on the brown carpet floor. It is a typical college apartment, not much on the walls but posters of randomness. The furniture is rundown and mix matched.

There is nothing particularly interesting about this place, but I do have a lot of memories of my old place here. It had the exact same layout, but my apartment had my first semesters work on the walls. I had three roommates and they liked having the work up even though I hate seeing my work up in my space. I would put other peoples work up, so it would diverge from my own. Every semester when someone would graduate I would trade or ask for a small piece of theirs, and now I have a bit from all the grads that passed through the program while I was there. I’m not a fan of having my work up where I spend a lot of my time in. Once I’m done with something, I need to clean and clear the space for the new work. Nothing is worse than making the same type of work over and over again. Without growth or new development everything becomes stale and it starts to lose any reminisce of importance. So while moving forward from one series to the other, I have to clear my physical space and mind of what I have just finished.

FY: What are you inspired by?

GP: I’m inspired by a lot of things. It’s hard to pinpoint something in particular. I’ve always been interested and inspired by films and music. The music I listen to while working has such a great influence in the way I work and how it all comes together. I can tell you four bands I listen to on repeat while working on my thesis work: Muse, Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, and Queen. Every now and then when I hear any songs from those artists, I immediately know what piece I was working on at the time.

While I do believe that the idea is incredibly important, an artist has to not just be aware of what their interested in saying, but also how the works come across to the uninformed viewer and how to bridge that gap as swiftly as possible. The process of figuring those ideas out is by simply working it out. You must play and work through all the ideas in your head in order to figure things out. Once the idea is reached, then the real work begins on how to bring that idea into clear fruition.

But, the thing that always gets me hyped on a new piece is materials and techniques. For me, the introduction of printmaking was such a mind opening experience. I hate to sound a little idealistic about it, but working in the print studio is when I’m at my most peaceful. I go out and find new materials I haven’t used, or learn about a new technique, and I go to the studio and play. That’s when the work is at its most honest; when it just comes out of you without any premeditated force.

Transitory Spaces, 2012, Video projection on hand-printed woodcuts on fabric

FY: What other pieces/projects are you working on at this moment?

GP: At the moment, I’m working on a couple of stencils and some new woodcuts. Since my work incorporates printmaking with drawing and painting, I’m always trying to get new plates to play with. I enjoy building surfaces and layers to the point that I loose myself in them. The new pieces I’ve been working on continue where I left off in my last series. The gap between my paintings and prints is much less than it once was and the visual vocabulary has become much more open than before.

I’m also experimenting with some new surfaces and ways of approaching the layers I built up on the surface. The new works are relatively small in size, but I would like to start making some larger pieces soon. I’ve been trying to make a large multi-panel piece in which the panels can be interchanged to make different images. As it happens with memory, one recollection leads to another and I want the piece to be a prime example of that. This can be easily achieved in a digital media, but I want to do it with painting.

FY: What is something that you are looking forward to?

GP: I’m excited to see where I’m at by the end of this year. At 25, I’m at that point in my life where I really don’t know where I will be at next week, nonetheless where I’ll be at a year later. And that’s ok with me. That’s the exciting and terrifying part. 

What I am most looking forward to is getting my US residency to go through this year. I don’t know when that will happen, but I hope that by the end of the year I can work and travel. But, I’ve made it work so far and just hope to continue making it work.

Thanks for taking the time to answer some questions, Gissette!