I grew up in the ‘90s in the suburbs of La Plata, Argentina. Far from the concrete and city lights, I was raised alongside five siblings, climbing century-old trees and catching fireflies, back when they were still around. Having a spacious and lush garden during my childhood was probably the gateway to my love for nature. Even as a little girl, I enjoyed interacting with the animals that appeared—guinea pigs, lizards, birds, and toads were just a few on a very long list. Now, as an adult, I couldn’t imagine living in a place that doesn’t have the same level of greenery that surrounded me in my early years.
At that time, when screens were not yet common and TV time was limited to a little bit each day, one way to entertain children was to give them paper and colors to keep them occupied for a while. My household was no exception. Many afternoons were spent using recycled sheets of paper and arguing over who got to use the colored pencils and who got the coveted markers. My mother also encouraged us to create things with our hands dolls, decorations, and useful objects—so we always had access to various materials and surfaces. While I often drew princesses and unicorns, it was already clear what direction I would take later in life: zebras, lions, and orcas were recurring figures. Even when my geologist father brought home giant maps for us to draw on the back, I would attempt complex ecosystems (which I never finished). By the time I was in school, my classmates would ask me to draw pictures for them or give them pen tattoos. So, just like nature, illustration had always been a part of my life.
Without screens, another way to pass the time was reading. I was fortunate that my parents were somewhat naturalists themselves, so many of the books at home were about plants and animals. As soon as I learned to read, they became my favorites.
Drawing remained one of my main activities until I finished school, though I didn’t advance much in terms of materials. Occasionally, I used acrylic paint, but I mostly stuck to informal sketches in notebooks or on loose sheets with graphite pencils – nothing more advanced than a few doodles. At 18, I experimented (unsuccessfully) with watercolor pencils that I had been gifted, but they were quickly forgotten in a drawer for many years.
At that age, I also completed my first year of biology at the University of La Plata. Although I didn’t continue with the degree, the experience provided me with tools and connections that would later become essential for my work as an illustrator.By then, I was much more deeply involved with nature and had started to learn in detail about Argentina’s species and ecosystems—topics for which there were no books at home, and which were generally quite unknown to the public at that time. I also began participating in outings with La Plata’s Birdwatchers’ Club, which brought me even closer to the native wildlife of my area.
Although I enjoyed it and learned a lot, I didn’t continue down that path and instead spent the following years focusing mainly on photography.
In 2015, I returned to illustration informally, as a hobby. The following year, I took a botanical scientific illustration course at the Faculty of Agricultural and Forestry Sciences at UNLP. From then on, illustration became my main activity. I created my first watercolor drawings and started focusing exclusively on native themes from Argentina.
Although both courses gave me tools and knowledge about scientific illustration, my training was almost entirely self-taught, as both were in black and white. Today, I primarily use watercolor.
In 2017, I created my first piece in the style of an old encyclopedia plate —a style that would become my signature and the one most people recognize me for. Without intentionally seeking it, that year, illustration became my main source of income and my formal job, working independently by creating commissioned artwork and selling products featuring my illustrations. Some of these objects are handmade by me, and while others are not, I always try to choose the most environmentally friendly options.
Once I had defined this as my profession, I started sharing my work on social media. But I also posted about the things I see in nature and love—flowers, spiders, fossils, anything that catches my attention. I began talking about the native wildlife I had learned about over the years, teaching about conservation and the importance of protecting the wild species around us. I also shared the trips I was fortunate to take thanks to my father’s passion for geology. In this way, I filled my profiles with everything I do and love, mixed together, reaching people who might not have been specifically interested in illustration or the products I sell but were eager to learn more about Argentina’s wildlife—animals that had long been ignored by books and documentaries. (Fortunately, today, there is much more material on the subject than there was a few years ago.)
Thanks to my love for native species, in 2019, I was selected to illustrate a book on Argentina’s wildlife. In 2023, I illustrated a botany manual for children, among other projects. These experiences solidified my path—combining illustration with nature and striving to spread respect for the environment and its inhabitants to as many people as possible.
