top of page

Sand Castle

I was born here on this beach

I am the daughter of these shells

On this beach I played with people like me

With people different than me

On this beach I walked

And looked at the stars in the night

And I prayed

On this beach I grew up

And I was cold

on a sunny day

And I cried and cried to the stars

I opened my arms

Turning and dancing 

To understand 

Why on that August day

I was cold

I belong to this beach 

And here I was born from this shells 

Finding shelter inside their shell

When during the August mornings 

It was cold

It was cold

As a contemporary artist, Cristina likes to experiment with different media. Text is one of these.

bottom of page