Meet Sonya Tapia | Mixed-Media Artist and Performer

We had the good fortune of connecting with Sonya Tapia and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Sonya, how has your perspective on work-life balance evolved over time?
Lately, my work life balance has been great! I think I’ve finally gotten into a routine that is really working out for me. But it took me a long time to get to the point where I am today.

I grew up seeing my dad work hard and he instilled that in me. Having two jobs, like he did, meant being away from home a lot, so I had to figure out a lot of things on my own. So I started working a full 40 hour work week for the first time in the summer of 2011 at the age of eighteen. That Fall, I also began my Freshman year in college as a full-time student. All of that work slowly consumed me, and after three semesters, I was disqualified. By the time I realized that I had an unhealthy work life balance, it was too late. I had lost control. It took me about eleven years, but I eventually found my balance––a balance that I didn’t know was possible, until I finally settled in Miami. I currently work as an office manager at an immigration law firm here in Miami. Not the place I pictured working when I graduated from college with my B.A. in Anthropology. The path hasn’t been straight forward. But this job is where I have created a balance that works for me.

I had to burn out first, before I found balance. It came after a few months of burn out. I started at the firm as a receptionist last April. Not my ideal job, but the pay was better than I have ever had before––I had a salary––and it was a full-time job, something I hadn’t experienced since I was eighteen years old. I was nervous when I received a job offer not too long after my interview, but it’s only about a half mile away from where I live, so I thought “heck, why not?”

When I first started as a receptionist, it was a big learning curve. I had never experienced anything like it. I had worked service jobs throughout my twenties, so I thought I would get the hang of it right away, but it took some time and patience. I grew up speaking Spanish at home, so when I started working in Miami, I thought it would be cake, but I was so wrong. I spoke Spanish, but I didn’t speak Miami Spanish. I had to adjust to new accents, dialects, and phrases. I struggled a lot in the first few months. Not just with the language, but also with the workload. My brain was not used to working in a fast-paced office environment.

And then in May 2023, DeSantis signed Senate Bill 1718, which required private employers with 25 or more employees to use the E-Verify system for new employees in Florida, which made the immigrants I work with even more scared of being in the country, since now they were afraid to work. When that Bill passed, the law firm went crazy with calls. The phones were ringing off the hook. I had to manage a crisis and simultaneously organize my new role in the midst of the chaos within the first month of working there. I was new to the job and taking it all in—on top of living down the street from the office––and it became difficult to stop thinking about work.

As time went on, I became more familiar with my role and speaking to clients became much easier. This went on for about four months, and then at the end of September, I got a promotion to Administrative Services Manager. So I moved to the back of the office, and I officially had my first shared office space, with a really nice view of Coral Way.

One thing that I learned from working at reception, which I took into my new position, was to become aware of my own weaknesses. I now experience things that are difficult for me as things that I must work on. This was a lesson I had begun to learn in my twenties, but things were different now. I was on my own in a city on the other side of the country. I had to figure it out and I did it by working hard. But I worked so hard that stress eventually began to follow me home.

I was overworked and no longer found joy in my day-to-day life. I knew that the work that I was doing was important––I was helping people change their legal status for the better––but the work was stressful, nonetheless. And I was adapting to my new role as well.

During this entire time, I didn’t focus any of my energy on the things that I like to do outside of work. I wasn’t making ceramics, or any other form of art. I was uninspired and tired all the time.

Things really took a toll on me. I was going through a tough time and my fiancé, God bless him, supported me. He constantly encouraged me to do things that made me feel alive. He would suggest going on walks around our neighborhood or spending time in our shared studio space––a place I had been neglecting because I wasn’t in the headspace to create. I had absolutely no studio practice.

Eventually, things began to change. My fulfillment now comes from outside of work.

Yoán, my fiancé, also accompanied me to Casa Ameyal where I have been learning extensively about danza for the first time. At Ameyal, I feel at home and feel closer to balance. The first week after meeting the people who run Ameyal, Paco and Ceci, I was at Casa Ameyal almost every day. Whether it was danza or son jarocho, I was there. I just wanted to connect with people that were like me after being away from home in LA for so long. Casa Ameyal feels a lot like home and I feel re-charged every time that I go. I feel at peace when I see the altar set up on the East wall of their home. Connecting to my cultural heritage through Ameyal and tonalxochitl––the danza group at Ameyal––has really inspired me to create again. It’s something that fulfills me. I didn’t realize until I started to make art again. I began going to the studio and have been working on ceramics lately. I’ve also begun making Ojos de dios again.

In fact, the first Ojo that I made this year was actually on my birthday. On January 20th, [NAME] had the opening reception for Nothing Lasts Forever, an exhibit in which anyone could bring art to barter by replacing one of the five pieces on the wall. I questioned myself––was I an artist?––but I decided to make the ojo anyway, because I did see myself as an artist, I had just had a little hiatus and I was still new to Miami. But it was such an amazing show; it was the first time my art made it into an actual art gallery. A milestone was achieved that night, and I realized that I am an artist––with a day job.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I primarily make ceramics, which are inspired mostly by pre-Hispanic art from Mesoamerica, with a focus on western Mexico. I want my ceramics to look a certain way––as if they were found at an archeological site. If someone were to find any of my pieces a thousand years from now, I would want them to think of history, of civilizations a thousand years before them, the way I do. I aspire to make art that makes an impact on my community and the way it’s perceived.

I grew up in the Estrada Courts Projects in Boyle Heights, Los Angeles. I didn’t know it back then, but I was in a bubble. The earliest memories I have are filled with images of the colorful murals there. I didn’t realize the significance or importance of why they were there. The walls are time capsules of the Chicano art movement of the 1970s and the murals serve as a form of historical preservation. They represent self-identity and cultural pride. They definitely made a visual impact on me when I was young, but I didn’t realize the murals were telling a story back then. I didn’t start learning about my own history until I took my first Chicano Studies course in college, and that was only because I found it interesting.

I attended elementary school across the street from the Projects, at Christopher Dena Elementary. I have a core memory of first grade that definitely shaped the way I communicate. For whatever reason, the administration didn’t want the students to speak Spanish. I remember talking to my friend in Spanish and then the teacher came over and told us to stop speaking Spanish because we were only allowed to speak English. From then on, I primarily spoke English at school and Spanish at home. But this made me feel disconnected from the community around me, as well as all of my extended family that was back in Mexico, a country I knew nothing about. To top it off, my family in Mexico only spoke Spanish, a language I eventually no longer felt comfortable speaking with my pocha accent. I was beginning to forget my first language, the one that connects me to my parents and extended family.

My ceramics have helped me reconnect with that history. In researching archeological sites and ceramics that have been discovered there, I found them so intriguing—how detailed they were, how big they could be. I can’t understand the glyphs. I don’t know the symbolism of everything, but I find it all really alluring and fascinating. I want to understand them and I am beginning to. Through them I am starting to understand myself.

In the summer of 2018, at the age of twenty five, I decided to go to my dad’s hometown of Tepic, Nayarit, to see my extended family that I hadn’t seen in five years at that point. On that trip, my cousin accompanied me to the local anthropology museum in el centro, down the street from the cathedral. I was excited to visit because I was studying for my AA in Anthropology at the time, and I was determined to learn about the history of Tepic. In my studies and ceramic research, I had come across chinesco figurines. Chinescos are sculptural figures from Nayarit and Colima, associated with Indigenous cultures and usually found among burial goods in tombs. When I first saw the chinesescos in real life, however, they reminded me of my family and I saw myself as a part of that history because I saw my own features reflected in the figurines. There was no denying the connection.

Inspired by my trip to the motherland, when I returned to LA, I created a sculpture called “La Chineska” in 2019 to pay homage to my ancestors. In reality, I made it in my own image, kneeling in prayer, which allowed me to honor myself and my dad’s history, and to reconnect myself to that history which no one told me about in my youth. “La Chineska” is a copper-toned woman, kneeling, with her hands raised before her face in prayer. The copper color of the sculpture also relates to the rest of my ceramics in that I work with a lot of brown tones. The Earth is brown and ceramics are made of Earth. As a matter of fact, when I pick out clay bodies, I think of what a sculpted person would look like in that clay if left unglazed––its color, its grit. Clay comes from specific places and it represents those places.

My interest in Mexican history and indigenous art has also led me to work with yarn, taking inspiration from huichol yarn paintings and ojos de dios from Nayarit. In 2019, I also made a work called “Ojo de Diosa,” which is a 30” x 30” ojo de dios with a gradient of colors blending into each other like a sarape, as opposed to the traditional bands of color. Superimposed on the ojo, there is an image of Coatlicue, the Aztec Earth goddess of creation and destruction, surrounded by gold-spray painted corn husks. Making “Ojo de Diosa” showed me that I could also experiment with the traditional forms, and even transform the spiritual tool into a kind of altar itself.

My transition from L.A. to Miami in 2022, however, was a journey of its own and a challenge. All of a sudden, I didn’t feel like I could create anymore because I was in the process of relocating my life to the other side of the country. As time went on, the sadness I felt overtook me, and I no longer had the drive to create or connect to my culture. Moving out of L.A. was a struggle for me, because I didn’t realize that I had lived in a bubble. When I got to Miami, that bubble had burst. I felt alone, out of place, and very far from home. So I began searching for a way to reconnect with my culture the only ways I knew how: food and music.

My desire to reconnect ultimately led me to Tonalxochitl, a community of danzantes concheros, here in Miami. Danza is an ancient dance tradition with roots in Mexico’s indigenous cultures that carries forward Mexico’s pre-Hispanic traditions. It’s a spiritual experience that honors the gods, the four directions, and life itself, by merging the body and spirit in rhythmic harmony.

Today, I feel that over the years, I have made many decisions that have led me to this path––a path that took me thirty years to find! My interests and passions brought me to Miami and eventually connected me to danza, which has helped me develop a deeper connection with my indigeneity and cultural heritage through movement and prayer.
Right now, my artistic practice is based on creating spiritual tools for altars like the ones at ceremonies. I am creating my own ofrendas. My inspiration these days is coming from the altar itself, and the special attention these tools require. I am looking at my own life now as something that is sacred, and that needs to be protected. I want to share my art with people so that, in a way, they are also protected.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
If my best friend was in town for a week, I would have enough time to take her to all my favorite places in the city. I love being a tourist so I would take her to all of the places that have made an impression on me since my first visit in 2019. Not only would I want to take my friend to enjoy the nightlife here in Miami, but I would also take her to experience the beautiful nature that is unique to South Florida.

Monday: Un día en La Pequeña Habana – A day in Little Havana
La Carreta – Breakfast
Cuban Memorial Blvd.
The Ceiba tree, Walk of Fame, Domino Park, CubaOcho Museum
Croqueta preparada from Sanguich – Lunch
Drinks at Union
José Martí Park
Mi Rinconcito – Dinner

Tuesday: Everglades National Park + Big Cypress National Preserve
Slough Slough (if the season allows)
Ride an airboat, Kayak, Hike, etc.
Camp

Wednesday: Downtown/Brickell
Taquerías El Mexicano – Lunch
History Miami – Downtown
PuttShack – Brickell City Center
Burger from Pepito’s Plaza – Dinner

Thursday: Museum Day
Frost Science Museum
Chef Creole – Little Haiti – Lunch
ICA – Design District
Drinks at The Corner

Friday: A day in Homestead
Have a day at the Redland Market Village
Cinnamon rolls from Knaus Berry Farm
Check out the mystery of Coral Castle
Milkshake + snacks from Robert is Here
La Cruzada, Homestead – Dinner
Snacks from Mexico Market

Saturday: Sábado Gigante
La Boulangerie – Brunch
Alice Wainwright Park
Ice cream from Azucar + pastelitos from Party Cake Bakery, Little Havana – Lunch
Art show at [NAME] Publications
Lokal in Coconut Grove – Dinner
Drinks + Karaoke at Se7aS (7 Seas)
Probably end up at Centro in Wynwood lol
Taco Stand – Post Dinner

Sunday: Beach Day
Tostada and oj from any ventanita – Breakfast
Watch the sunrise on the beach
Pubsubs – Lunch
A.D. Barnes Park, Coral Terrace
Bird Bowl, Westchester

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
Firstly, I would like to say thank you to my fiancé, Yoán, for always believing in me. I would not be where I am today if not for his patience, love, and support. He has always encouraged me to follow my desires and it is because of him that I decided to make the move to Miami.

I would also like to thank Yoán’s friends and family for welcoming me to Miami with open hearts, and for always wanting me to feel like a part of their family and community. When I first arrived in Miami, they were the first to accept me, and it is through them that I first began to discover the city of Miami.

In the year and seven months that I have been living in Miami, however, one other group has had a significant impact on my identity, and has even changed the way I perceive the world and how I move in it. That group is Tonalxochitl, a community of danzantes concheros here in Miami. Before I was introduced to Tonalxoxhitl, I was feeling lost, alone, and far away from home.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw them dance at José Martí Park. It was on October 9th, 2022, Indigenous People’s day. I found out about the event through the Mexican Consulate on Instagram. I didn’t know any Mexicans in Miami at the time, so I figured I should follow the Mexican consulate to find out about events in the city. Through them, I found a Mexican Cultural Organization by the name of Ameyal, whose dancers are known as Tonalxochtil, and I began following them to keep up with their events.

It was the only shot at a connection to my culture in Miami at the time. That morning, my fiancé and I made our way to the park, and it was lightly sprinkling. I saw the danzantes dressed very colorfully, and wearing their feathers and full regalia. I heard the sound of the drums and the sound of rain coming from their ayoyotes with each step they took. I could smell the smoke coming from the burning copal resin. I hadn’t seen danza in years, even in L.A. So, when we arrived at the park and I was met with familiar sights and sounds, I knew I was in the right place. At that moment, I realized that there was a community in Miami here for me. I just had to be open to finding it. I wanted to start going to danza practice right away, but life had other plans.

I didn’t start going until the beginning of this year, when the Mexican Consulate announced that they were going to do a free event at Domino Park for Three Kings’ Day. They had announced that there would be authentic Mexican food and live music, so for me it was another chance to connect to my cultural heritage.

But, I almost didn’t make it out to that event. That day I had received some not so great news from my dad back in Los Angeles, which had really bummed me out and it left me sad. My fiancé encouraged me to get dressed and attend the event that I had been so excited for just a few hours before. So, I listened to him. I got dressed and we made our way to Domino Park. Once there, I immediately looked for tamales, my favorite dish, and they were delicious. Once finished, we got some cochinita pibil tacos and then the live music started. The sounds reminded me so much of Los Angeles. I didn’t know the songs, but my spirit recognized the music––it was Son Jarocho. I immediately started crying, and I could not control myself. I was quickly reminded of the bands El Río de Los Ángeles and Las Cafeteras. Immediately, I turned to Yoán and told him that I didn’t know what was happening or why I was crying, but I was missing home so much and I was not expecting to experience the feelings that I did. I had a visceral reaction and the tears just started streaming down my face.

Yoán told me that the group performing was part of Ameyal and the jefes had actually gone to his class the previous year to teach them about Son Jarocho. He told me that after the performance he would introduce me to them. We met and I got to talking to them. I mentioned that I had wanted to attend their danza practice for a while now, but hadn’t been successful in making it out. “We actually have danza practice tonight, you guys should come,” Paco said. This would be my introduction to Tonalxochitl.

So I would like to thank the entire community of danzantes concheros at Ameyal, for changing the way that I view myself here in this city. Before I started dancing with them I felt like I just lived and worked here, but I didn’t do anything with the community, other than the occasional family gathering or art show at [NAME], but there was nothing else that I really related to or connected with. Besides that, I think that the work that Paco and Ceci are doing of sharing the Mexican culture with Miami at Ameyal is very important. They are great examples as leaders and I am very grateful for connecting with them. I’m really glad I did at the time that I did.

I’ll never forget that Indigenous People’s Day when this all began, because it was the first time that I felt like a part of a community here in Miami. It was the very first time I saw myself belonging to the space that I found myself in. I had come to Miami with no plan, but following my heart led me down the path I had been desperately trying to find my whole life. I followed my passions, and this is where I am today. I finally feel like I am reconnecting. For that I am grateful.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/xulitaceramix/

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sonya-tapia-27b364141/