Makers Series — Fabiana Moch
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Time to read 6 min
Written by: Kaleena Quintero
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Published on
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Last updated on
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Time to read 6 min
"Creativity allows us to return to ourselves and to slow down, and it can look in such different ways. Not necessarily in a four-hour painting session, but also in the songs we sing on our way to work, in the photos we take of the things that call our attention, in the meals we prepare and the letters we write."
- Fabiana Moch
Growing up in a small city in Veracruz, surrounded by plants, animals, music, art, books, and poetry, Fabiana Moch built her creative foundation around these influences.
Today, her work is guided by that same sense of curiosity and childlike wonder, telling stories inspired by the natural world and the small moments that often go unnoticed.
I think I fit the artist cliché of being the girl that never stopped drawing. I grew up in a small city in Veracruz surrounded by plants and animals in a house that was always filled with a deep love for music, art, books, and poetry.
I think because of that I grew up with an understanding of how important it is to feel things deeply and explore the world with curiosity and love and that always ended up leading me to art.
I remember my father showing me one of my favorite picture books “The blue stone” by Jimmy Liao and feeling absolutely amazed by it. Later on, I decided I wanted to look again for that same feeling and make my best effort to share that feeling through my own illustrations, and that’s how I ended up going to art school, in the pursuit of maintaining my childlike wonder and wanting to become an illustrator.
I think often about that small house filled with this immense love and wonder and how magical it felt to have that. Creativity for me is to hold that feeling and share it with others, to tell stories about birds and trees, clouds, and mountains. And in illustration I have found that road. I adore knowing illustration allows me to tell so many different stories and learn about anything and everything.
Lately, the more I navigate my creative practice the more spiritual it has become. I feel things very deeply and I often find that the more connected I feel to myself and my surroundings the more creative I become. One of the beauties of art is that there are sparks everywhere. Everything has a story to tell if you look carefully: the tree, the dog, the shadows the sun makes at five, both the lady and the weird looking vegetable at the store. The man in the bakery marking the date and orders at the start of every day in this calendar that his local butcher shop hands out every year and the pigeon in the street trying to dodge the dozens of feet walking everyday to so many different places.
Noticing stories comes back to feeling curious and connected to the world, to remember we are simultaneously so small and gigantic, and we all hold so many worlds within ourselves. As Walt Whitman said, we do contain multitudes.
But there are so many people whose work I connect with, and this too evolves and changes with me. So many writers and poets like Mary Oliver, Ida Vitale, Mariana Matija, Robin Wall Kimmerer, Julio Cortázar, Marguerite Duras, Gastón Bachelard. Artists like Hilma Af Klimt who has been my recent obsession. But also my friends and colleagues inspire me so much everyday, people like Ina Hristova, Joan Vázquez, Aranza Hernández, Camila Cordero, Roy Ramos, José Dorantes, Santiago Moyao, and Alejandro Islas. I always feel that creative spark bursts into fireworks after seeing them. My creativity always flourishes when I’m surrounded by people I admire and care about.
My favorite project has got be the one I’m working on at the moment. I had the opportunity to come to Japan for an art residency and work on an illustration project while I’m here. I’ve been gathering species of local plants on hikes to the forest and from local residents. I’m very interested in getting to know their stories and relationships with the plants here and I’ve been so lucky to get to know so many lovely people and stories around the plants. The goal is to make an illustrated herbarium where I gather both the stories and plants, making them into small texts and an illustration for each plant. I’m currently in the middle of it and feeling very excited about both the process and the results.
Through other fellow illustrators. I saw them loving the brand, so I decided to start looking for them.
It almost felt like a quest trying to find them in México, and after a good amount of time, I found a small store that sold them.
They have now become my favorite pencils, and I can’t go anywhere without them.
I feel the need to answer this question in two parts. On one side I must make room in this conversation for my paints. Color has a very important part in my practice. I work with mixed media using acrylic, watercolor or gouache as my base and then add soft pastels, colored pencils, and markers. Over the years I’ve had the privilege to acquire and try out different brands and mediums that have become favorites and that make my practice so much easier knowing the supplies I use have my back.
On the other side I’d have to make a special mention to my sketchbook. It has become such an important piece in my creative process that it has almost become this emotional support object. I will carry it around everywhere with me even when I think I won’t use it because more often that not it’s those times where I find myself looking for it the most.
It is important to me to have a safe space to pour down any and every idea I have, whether it’s in the shape of a drawing, a written sketch, a reminder, a phrase I like or a journal entry. Every sketchbook I have has also become a frozen piece of time in my creative journey, a way to remember. From memories to the things I was interested in, to my way of drawing, writing and representing the world around me. Looking back through them transports me to that moment in my life and everything I felt at that time.
It means being able to see. To behold the world and feel connected to it. Creative practices require time and care to see them grow.
There is so much magic around us that often gets diluted by the demands of capitalism that being able to stop and slow down has become a privilege but something we mustn’t forget is necessary.
We are not built to speed. Our systems need time, care, pauses. And so do creative practices. While acknowledging the fact that we’re deeply immersed in a meritocratic and speed rewarding system, I try to slow down as a ritualistic practice now, my work fortunately allows me and requires me to do so, to be aware and present, but I know that’s not the case for so many people.
For some years now I’ve been practicing poetry watching, which is similar to people watching but you look for everything. If I walk to run an errand, I look for colors, for the bird in the cable, for the song playing in the corner of the street, for the rebellious flowers growing in the asphalt and for the shapes of the shadows that hung laundry makes in the floor. Allowing ourselves to explore and experience our creative impulses is also a way of resisting, healing, and reconnecting with ourselves and with the world.
To be endlessly curious. Curiosity is often the path to knowledge and with knowledge comes compassion. And we need so much more compassion. As illustrators we have the opportunity not only to create for ourselves but also to share that with others, to share interests, feelings, and questions. Art has a unique way of creating community and we should aim for that whenever possible. To be curious about the world around us and know our creative impulses are so important. We’re all playing, experimenting. Whether it’s in the technique, materials or concepts, we are always exploring. Our curiosity is our most valuable asset.
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