Mr. Tuki Tuki Chocolate and the bad banana—the moment I became a storyteller.

I was born in 1994 in Bogota, Colombia and I visit frequently—sometimes I feel like my essence lies suspended between my two homelands. This is both good and bad, as the pangs of missing family are often followed by the gratitude that I live in a place where dreams become reality on a daily basis. In a way, this divided Self makes me an outsider everywhere I go. Storytelling provides a sense of grounding where my multicultural experiences can mix and mingle and create a harmonious, single thread that is a screenplay, a role on the stage, or a directorial concept. 

I was in second grade when I wrote my first story. It was about a police officer (who happened to be a piece of chocolate), and his unending pursuit of the dangerous villain, The Bad Banana. This simple assignment of so many years ago should have blurred into the memory recycling bins where so many other assignments now live, but I remember every detail of that project: the freedom of endless possibilities, the thrill of living in a world powered by the imagination, and the honor of sharing this story with my peers. 

I'm now in my first year at the University of Houston's Professional Actor Training Program; I decided to pursue an MFA in Acting because I found that I needed to take my storytelling to the next level, with the end goal of creating art that lives honestly and defiantly in this complicated world.  While I still create for the same reasons as I did in 2nd grade, my life experiences and the uncertain geopolitical reality we find ourselves in has forced me to widen my aperture and aim for bigger stages. I firmly believe that artists have as much power as politicians—as stunt pilots of the soul, we are the grunts that defend the humanity of civilization. And our enemies are well armed and unending. So let's challenge and support each other to create, share, and—fueled by our imaginations—create the honest truth in everything we do.