Los Algodones

Personal Narrative

Los Algodones tells the story of María, who embarks on an unexpected adventure during a rainy Thursday. As she runs from the rain, her journey takes her from the countryside to the desert, leading to a profound realization. The story is open-ended, allowing readers to draw their own interpretations—whether abstract or more concrete.

La Historia / The Story

I begin by taking you back to a trip I made to Santo Domingo this past April. Some of these trips are nostalgic and reflective, others more ordinary, but in all of them, I feel an inexplicable sense of connection to my country and my roots. With this in mind, as I was on my way to the airport to return to DC, the impulse to write came to me. 

Tipografía / Typography

Once back home, I began experimenting with different ways to present my project. I’d been intrigued by stamps for a while due to their functional, tactile, and analog qualities. So, I bought an office stamp to create the title and other typographic elements, embracing the concept of ephemera and the idea of making something beautiful with simple materials.  

Tipografía / Typography

Here’s a glimpse of how I played with this new tool. I enjoyed the idea of composing longer pieces using it—it was surprisingly fun.

Imágenes / Images

I also wanted to incorporate a visual component, so I experimented with Adobe Firefly to create conceptual images of cotton clouds. I blended them with embroidery elements, expressing the idea of weaving stories, unraveling, and recomposing them.

Imágenes / Images

I printed, scanned, and assembled these images, creating a tactile and handcrafted quality that speaks to the project’s themes of memory, craft, and storytelling.

Los Algodones

Un jueves de lluvia, María corrió.

Hacía un tiempo que las lágrimas de los algodones mojaban su tendedero. Había pasado varias horas lavando su ropa, separando los blancos de los colores, volteando los jeans al revés, lavando sus blusas de lino a mano y sus medias sin par.

“¡Qué inoportuna es esta lluvia!”, exclamó.

A veces, si llegaba a tiempo, metía la ropa en casa antes de que la lluvia la alcanzara. Pero otras veces, la vida la encontraba resolviendo algún nudito, y la ropa se mojaba.

“Me voy pal’ desierto donde nunca llueve”, se dijo María y se llevó sus jeans, sus blusas de lino y sus medias sin mirar atrás.

Pasaron unos meses y el viento de los guayacanes volvió a encontrar a María, pero ya no tenía sus jeans, sus blusas de lino ni sus medias sin par.

“Ya solo uso estos trapos viejos”, dijo. “Fascinante el desierto, pero el sol constante me resecó la ropa y me quemó la piel.”

“Con to’ y to’ me hubiera quedado en el campo, donde el agua me mojaba la ropa de vez en cuando, pero los días me parecían más bonitos.” ︎

Los Algodones

One rainy Thursday, María ran.

For some time now, the tears of the cotton clouds had been soaking her clothesline. She had spent several hours washing her clothes, separating the whites from the colors, turning the jeans inside out, washing her linen blouses by hand, as well as her mismatched socks.

“What an untimely rain,” she thought.

Sometimes, if she arrived in time, she would bring the clothes inside before the rain reached them. But other times, life found her solving some little knot, and the clothes would get wet.

“I'm going to the desert where it never rains,” María said, and she took her jeans, her linen blouses, and her mismatched socks without looking back.

Months went by, and the wind from the guayacanes found María again, but she no longer had her jeans, her linen blouses, or her mismatched socks.

“I only wear these old rags now,” she said. “The desert is fascinating, but the constant sun dried out my clothes and burned my skin.”

“All things considered, I should have stayed in the countryside, where the water sometimes wet my clothes, but the days seemed more beautiful.” ︎