It seems unbelievable, but my life is full of routines, which, when celebrated by me, become rituals that give me a peace, a harmony, that I am grateful for. From the moment I wake up until I go to bed, I take small, internalized, felt steps that allow me to connect with what I do, with who I am, and with my surroundings.

From putting my bare feet on the floor as soon as I get up at dawn, washing up, making the lemon and baking soda mixture to drink on an empty stomach, preparing breakfast while having my first cup of coffee, taking 10 minutes to shower, to taking a nap after lunch, taking a moment for creativity in the afternoon, talking with my family for two hours at night and then sleeping, after having a cayenne infusion, these are daily rituals that my body demands and that have become habits.

One of the rituals that fills me the most is the time I use to create. It is a time just for me in which I connect with myself, and in it I not only stop time, but I also give myself the freedom to do whatever I want. Those two hours, or more, in my room, I spend writing, but also drawing, designing, imagining. After taking care of everything at home, making sure I have no pending tasks, I put on music according to what I want to do and my mood. I turn on the air conditioning and lie on the floor, barefoot, dressed comfortably and lightly.

Sometimes I lie on the floor and like that, in that position, I close my eyes, breathe, and it's amazing how doing that relaxes me. In that state of stillness, I write with a pencil, not a pen, in a notebook. I make sentences, loose ideas, that guide me to develop what I want. While I write, other ideas come to me. So I note them separately and start making my own inventory of ideas, which I turn to when my creativity runs dry.

The same happens with painting. I start with loose strokes, without any direction, and I just see the shape of what I want to do as the strokes and colors flow. With writing, sometimes I have the idea of the ending or the beginning, the way I want to approach it. But with painting, no: I go in blind. The lines I leave on the sketchpad are what guide me to keep drawing. It's as if the drawing itself were speaking.

After two hours or more, a written text or a finished drawing may appear, but it may not. And that's okay. I don't seek to create to make a living, but to live. Creating texts or drawings is a creative process that relaxes me, but also challenges me, helps me express what even I don't know I carry inside and has its own timing. Having a routine for creation allows you to exercise your mind, refine your skills: it becomes an important personal time, a balance, where what is outside echoes in what you carry inside and vice versa.