The Snake Sheds its Skin

I didn’t just bring back memories from Colombia; I brought back a wound that, without realizing it, marked the beginning of my transformation.

Alma Animal Art was born quietly, before I fully understood what it would become.

The name appeared suddenly. I created a private space for my drawings, personal reflections, and unfinished ideas.

Then I checked whether the domain existed.

It did. So

Months later, after accumulating enough drawings and stories, I tried sharing some of them online, but something about building inside other people’s platforms never felt right.

That was the moment I decided to create my own website.

The only problem was that I still didn’t know what to do with my drawings.

A few weeks later, the idea appeared almost on its own: an oracle deck.

Later, I finally decided to build the website.

Within a few weeks, the format for the Animal Mirror Oracle began to take shape. I wasn’t a designer and I knew nothing about building websites or card layouts, so everything became trial and error. I changed colors, sizes and layouts after weeks of trial and error, the structure was finally there.

Everything was ready.

Then I went to Colombia.

The Crack in the Cement

On my way back, on that bus winding through the Colombian mountains, we stopped for lunch. When I stepped off the bus, I didn’t see the crack in the cement.My ankle twisted and the world stopped. The pain was so intense I almost passed out — I couldn't even eat.

Five more hours of bus to the capital were waiting for me, then three flights back to Canada. I walked through four airports with my foot on fire. During one layover, I took my shoe off on a couch trying to rest, but by the time boarding came, my foot was so red and swollen that my shoes wouldn't fit. I put on flip flops — the only thing that worked — and walked to the gate with the pain throbbing, wanting to cry, just wanting to get home.

I was supposed to return to Canada to refine the templates, finish digitizing the drawings and prepare the website launch. Instead, I returned injured, exhausted and barely able to walk.

The Boot and the Balance

I arrived in Canada to a solitary recovery. Two weeks away from the office, trying to heal on my own.The walking boot gave me stability, but it threw off my balance completely. I walked unevenly and developed an impressive backache until exhaustion got the better of me and I ended up slipping in the office bathroom.

It's been a slow process: from the boot to sneakers, from the walker to stabilizers. At home I don't wear the boot because it drains me — I use a walker and move slowly, feeling every step.

The Snake and the 20 Years

Around the same time my body began healing, two decades had passed since I first arrived in Canada. Right this month, when I was planning to launch my website, my foot has started to peel. When I saw it, I understood: it's the snake shedding its skin. Two decades earlier, another version of me had arrived here.and today, despite the pain and the setback, my project is being born.

Everything has happened fast and slow at the same time. My last chronicle isn't written from the office. it's written from my bed, leg up on the pillows, notebook in hand. Somewhere between the ice packs, bandages and animal drawings and oracle templates, I realized I was healing too.

The pain didn't stop the journey. The pain was the process so the old skin could fall away and the oracle could, finally, step into the light.

This dragon drawing isn't pretty, I made it barely a week after my leg injury. I remember clearly that my hands were shaking as I drew it, and when I looked at it finished, it felt sad and lifeless to me. But I'm sharing it here today because it marks the exact moment of a new transformation.

In the middle of the pain and frustration of not being able to walk or drive, drawing became my absolute refuge. It was the first spark toward starting over.

It took more than eight weeks before I could walk normally again, but this process showed me something I didn't expect: art heals. Out of that deep need to channel my energy somewhere and to hold onto some kind of resilience , came the drive to bring this project to life, and to let animals become my messengers.