That guy in the plaid is my Grandpa. He was born in Morocco. This is his dad.
He was exiled from Spain, and all Spanish territories by Franco, so my grandpa traveled by boat to Venezuela, where he worked and worked and worked until he could bring his father, mother, brother, and sister over and they could finally call a place home.
Here is my grandpa when he bought his first TV.
He’s where I get my impecable taste, my love of movies and storytelling, and of course, my hard work and work and work ethic.
In the pink is my grandma.
Her parents are Auschwitz survivors. They met in Romania after the war, got married and had her. Then they moved to Cuba with nothing but the money my great grandpa could fit in his shoe. They eventually started a textile factory. Castro came to power so they left. They started a new textile factory in Venezuela.
My grandma met my grandpa.
And they had my dad. Who then met my mom.
Oh yeah, and my mom’s dad, the guy in stripes in that first picture was a communist guerilla fighter. He actually sent supplies to Castro, the guy who made my dad’s grandparents leave Cuba. Here’s him when he got tired of being really cool, and became an employment lawyer.
His job may have changed but his love of stripes remained.
Anyway, all that happened and then I was born. The baby in the middle of the first photo is me.
I am no longer a baby.
I grew up to study Political Science because, I mean... obviously.
For the last few years, I have been making ads at MullenLowe LA.
Also I like to paint and illustrate.
Confused? Don’t be. I inherited a knack for transforming, adapting, and learning new things.
If you want to learn together, reach me at:
chocronmichelle47@gmail.com