My Sketches, My Design, and the Bike I'm Riding Toward
A story about creativity, resilience, and the freedom of two wheels
When life had other plans
These have been deeply challenging times — and I imagine many of you can relate. When I first built my website, my only intention was to promote my design and marketing services, everything I had worked so hard to create professionally. But life, as it often does, had something else in mind.
I went through an accident that, as difficult as it was, gave me something I hadn't known I needed: silence. In that forced stillness, I could finally hear what my inner voice had been shouting for a long time. And in that quiet, I made a decision — today, I leap.
Between scattered sketches, half-formed ideas, and an imagination that refused to rest, I chose to stop waiting for the perfect moment and simply begin. Here I am now — publishing on Pinterest, a platform where I feel free to be authentic, sharing my creative process without filters or pretense. It became my favorite space for everything from outfit inspiration to illustrations that move me.
I dream of riding again
I can picture it so clearly: early mornings pedaling along the San Diego coast, catching every golden sunrise and every impossible sunset. I can feel the salt breeze on my face. I can hear the quiet rhythm of the city waking up — the soft pull of the tide, the distant hum of people living their lives, a squirrel darting across the path, and that white butterfly that always seems to appear in moments of pure flow, as if to say: we're on the right road.
That feeling — wind on your face, legs moving, mind finally quiet — is something only cycling gives me.
The bike that was mine
Let me tell you something — not with bitterness, but simply with honesty, because life is a mirror and nothing happens without reason. During everything I went through, my bicycle was sold for scrap or given away. I still don't know exactly what happened, and honestly, that detail doesn't matter anymore.
But she wasn't just any bike. She was MY bike. I had added accessories to her with so much love — the way you carefully build a Korean skincare routine, piece by piece. Beautiful tires. Little details that made her mine. I used to call her 'Mi Preciosa.' When I found out she was gone, I won't lie — I was furious. I wanted to scream. But I've made a choice, long ago, not to hold onto anger or let it poison my days. I accepted it, let it go, and chose to see it as the closing of a cycle.
My memories of that Fuji are beautiful. The day I bought her, I felt genuinely blessed — the seller gave me a discount and cheered me on like he was passing me a torch. 'Welcome to the club,' he said. I remember that bike the way you remember a first love: with nostalgia, but with a smile.
My proudest moment on her was the day I realized, mid-ride, just how far I had gone. I was so close to being ready to race. That was the day I decided to sign up for the Tecate-Ensenada ride — 'Los Desterrados,' they called it that year. I'm pretty sure my bike heard me talking to her like a best friend. She probably needed better company. Ha.
This is me asking - and offering
I want to ride again. Not someday. Now. I don't want to keep imagining it from behind a desk. I spent months focused on recovery, then on finding work, then on planning a return to Ensenada. I had it all mapped out. But I refuse to wait another year.
Today, I want to buy my new bike. I want to go to San Diego and start over. I want to feel that freedom again — the wind on my face, the road ahead, that feeling that only cycling gives me.
So here's my offer: let me bring that same passion and precision to your project. I offer graphic design, web design, branding, poster design, custom artwork, and digital product design — everything you need to take your project to the next level. And if you're wondering whether I do something not listed here, just ask. Chances are, I do.
I know I'm not the only one who loves cycling and wants to present that passion beautifully to the world. I don't know how many times I'll write about my bike in the future — but I know I won't stop. And I think you understand that.
So let's work together. You get a design made with passion and professionalism. I get one step closer to my new bike and those early mornings riding by the sea.
