Selected Works of Alexandra Lopez Iglesias

Mountains, rivers, endless pines.

A thunderous train, once a day, that both clashed and harmonized with the forest.

This was the backdrop to your extraordinary childhood. 

 

Your mother, regal, a sharpshooter, indomitable,  somewhat savage. 

Your father, brilliant, courageous, a feminist. 

A true autodidact, his thirst for knowledge and sense of wonderment embedded at your core.

And you, first born, with all its implications.

Always strong. Never wavering.

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You were intentional with everything you touched.        

Things had to be "just so".

Methodical. A perfectionist at heart. 

You loved order. You cherished beauty. 

You created a safe and welcoming home.

Full of light. 

Free of dust. 

Good conversation and homemade meals

were your love language.

And a wealth of muted gestures, seeded in love,  bestowing dignity unto others.

 

Among your eight children, my mother, resembled yours the most.

Tall and rough, exceptionally beautiful. 

Wild and mischievous.  

She singularly begged to be loved, touched, by acting out and creating chaos where chaos was not allowed.

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You took the switch, thinking it had to be done, unaware  that all she needed was to be held.

And how could you have recognized that need?

It being completely unfamiliar.