We’re looking forward to introducing you to Marinés Adrianza. Check out our conversation below.
Marinés, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
I’m about to publish three children’s books, and working on them has brought me so much unexpected joy. At first, I struggled—I felt pressure to follow certain rules or formats. But everything changed when I decided to create the books exactly the way I envisioned them, without trying to fit into a mold. That shift freed me. Suddenly, I was spending long nights illustrating, completely absorbed, not noticing the time passing. It became a deeply personal and fulfilling process.
These books blend my love of storytelling, emotion, and sensory experience—much like my textile work—and sharing them with children feels like offering a little piece of magic.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Sure! I’m Marinés Adrianza. I’m a multidisciplinary artist and educator originally from Venezuela, now living in Pasadena. I work mainly in textiles, ceramics, and painting—and lately I’ve been really immersed in textile sculpture. It’s where a lot of my ideas about transformation, memory, and nature come together. Right now, I’m working on a series of sculptural textile pieces inspired by characters from my childhood growing up in a small town in the Venezuelan countryside.
My work is driven by a deep curiosity about the natural world and the unseen forces that shape us. I studied psychology, and that lens—along with my love of macro photography—really influences how I approach texture, layering, and narrative. I’m drawn to the things we often overlook: small transformations, quiet growth, the way materials break down and renew.
I’m also really influenced by the philosophy of wabi-sabi and the underground networks of mycelium. Both remind me to embrace what’s imperfect, shifting, or undefined—and to see beauty in that. Whether I’m working with cloth, clay, or stories, I’m always trying to create from a place of freedom and emotional honesty.
Oh—and I’m about to publish three children’s books! That’s been its own magical process. It’s storytelling, but with pictures and rhythm and imagination—just like my visual work. Everything I do is rooted in that desire to connect, to wonder, and to remember.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
I was a wildly curious kid. Always experimenting, always collecting—rocks, bugs, found objects, anything with a story. I loved getting messy, getting soaked by the rain, digging into the earth with my hands and playing with bugs. I was happiest when I was making something, even if I didn’t know what it was yet.
I also wanted to feed everyone. I’d offer my mom’s food to anyone who walked through the door. Or people I saw in the streets that seemed to me hungry. Her cooking was full of love, and I think I just wanted to share that feeling. There was something about bringing comfort or joy to someone through something simple and handmade—it’s still at the heart of what I do now, just with different tools.
Back then, I didn’t worry about categories or rules. I just followed whatever lit me up inside. And honestly, She’s finding her way back to me, little by little—especially through my art.
What fear has held you back the most in your life?
The fear of not being “perfect”—and not belonging because of it. For a long time, I carried this quiet pressure to do things “the right way,” to meet expectations, to fit into what others might understand, approve of, or value. I worried about what people would say, how I would be perceived, whether I was “enough” to call myself a good mother, woman, an artist or a writer.
That fear kept me small. It made me second-guess my ideas, delay projects, and sometimes silence parts of myself that felt too raw or weird or different.
But the more I’ve embraced imperfection—especially through painting, textiles and my ceramic work—the more I’ve reclaimed my voice. Letting go of that fear has allowed me to create more freely, and in doing so, connect more deeply with others.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I’m committed to connecting to my Self—with a capital S—moment by moment, and allowing my actions to come from that place. It’s not always easy, but I believe that when I’m rooted in that deeper part of myself—the one that isn’t trying to please, prove, or perform—everything becomes clearer. That’s where peace and joy live for me.
It’s less about arriving somewhere and more about returning, again and again. Whether I’m making art, parenting, teaching, or just moving through daily life, my intention is to act from that grounded, truthful center. That’s the lifelong project.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. When do you feel most at peace?
I feel most at peace when I’m fully present—when my hands are busy stitching, shaping clay, or drawing, and my thoughts finally quiet down. There’s something about being in flow with materials that brings me back to myself.
I also find deep peace in small, sensory moments: walking barefoot on soil, listening to my kids laugh in the next room, or cooking something that I know I will enjoy. Those are the moments where I feel most connected to life—and to something much bigger than myself.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://marinesadrianza.com
- Instagram: @MarinesAdrianza
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarinesAdrianza
- Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcGX72P4ZHA&t=22s
