Six years ago, Cristina Martinez was designing clothes and sketching runway silhouettes, convinced she was headed down the path of fashion illustration. Then something shifted. Her lines started to tell stories, her color palettes began to breathe, and suddenly the canvas became her clearest mirror. Her brushes guided her into a new era—one where art would no longer be a side passion, but the foundation of a visual language that continues to deepen, expand, and heal.
Her latest evolution marks a new high point: a sold-out show at TASWIRA Gallery, an exclusive collection acquisition now debuting at Seattle Art Fair, and a mural collaboration with the Mexican consulate. That last project, in particular, feels deeply aligned with how she sees her identity reflected in her work. “I try to paint as authentically as possible,” she says. “I want my work to be a direct reflection of who I am and nothing less. I’m honored that the community here has decided to include my perspective being Black and Mexican. I’m always grateful for the spaces where I can go in and I can show up as myself and express what my experience has been like being in both cultures.”
Martinez’s honesty is part of what makes her work so arresting. Her “Water Me” series, created from quick sketches on sticky notes during a desk job, resonated around the world. These pieces, often depicting women with petals falling from their eyes and vines growing from their bodies, blend intimacy with power, rooted in the quiet but unstoppable strength she inherited from the women in her family.
What follows is a conversation with an artist whose rise isn’t merely about the visibility of Black women in the contemporary art space—although that matters, deeply. Cristina’s story is about using softness as power, turning personal narratives into collective mirrors, and honoring the fullness of identity in every stroke. Her work makes room for stillness and reflection, particularly for women who carry so much, so silently. As she continues to show up as a mother, wife, and a creator, she’s proving that healing and success can grow side by side.
ESSENCE: I wanted to start with your journey from fashion illustration to fine art. What inspired you to make that shift?
Cristina Martinez: I think for that, I am a really big believer in letting yourself kind of float creatively until your thing finds you. And for me, I was like, “Oh, I like clothes. This is cool. Maybe I’ll figure out how to make them.” I didn’t really know what my passion was or how passionate I was about it, but I knew that it was something I was really interested in. So, I went to fashion school, and I learned in fashion school that I was taking all this time to illustrate the garments that I wanted to make.
Even when I was sewing, I was drawn to the really clean stitch lines and making a curve with the sewing machine. It was really about the construction of the garments. So, my fashion figures just became people to me. They had whole stories and backgrounds, and in my brain I knew who they were and what they wanted and what they felt. And I realized in fashion school that my true passion was in storytelling—but through painting and illustration.
How do you think your creative voice has evolved since your shift?
In the beginning it was like, “I like to do this. I like color, I like to experiment. I just like being really, really deep in art.” But I didn’t understand early on how necessary art is and how impactful it can be when you use it as a tool to tell a greater story. So I feel like in the beginning, my focus was creating pretty pictures, making things that looked really, really nice. As I went on that journey with my work and continued to experiment, I realized that I can use this to say something that’s also really, really important and still looks nice. Or sometimes it doesn’t look nice, but really has a powerful message. For me, the storytelling just completely took over. Now at this point, I like to create things and I hope that people think they’re beautiful, but if you understand the message, to me, that is what my job is as an artist.
I know your heritage as both a black woman as well as a Mexican woman is central to your art. How do you navigate and celebrate both cultures in your creative practice?
I have to just be my truest authentic self. I think that in order for me to create the best artwork, I have to stay tapped into that space as often as I can and really just be comfortable with who I am. And it is definitely something that I experienced growing up—trying to figure out which culture you relate more to. I was raised by the Mexican side of my family, but I knew very, very early on that I was a black woman and the world saw me as a black woman. So, I’m not going to pretend to be more of one thing or less of another thing. I just take the influence and the things that were part of my upbringing and put them into my work.
Seattle is a really unique place in my opinion. How would you describe the city’s art scene?
The first thing that comes to my mind is that it’s growing. It’s getting to a space that I feel really optimistic about. Going to the art walks on first Thursdays; each and every one gets bigger. Early in my career, I spent a lot of time traveling to LA or traveling to New York, and every time I did get an art centered project, I was traveling for it. Lately, it’s been so comforting to get these really creative projects, but also having them be local. I think there’s a unique experience here, especially being a black artist. So, it’s just a constant journey figuring out how to get people really interested in what you have to say. But, I think that we are getting to a space where eventually we will be a place that has a large creative influence.
Your debut at the Seattle Art Fair—what was that experience like for you?
It was amazing. For me, I go into all of those things just because my bigger picture is at the end of this journey, I would love to be in museums. I think about when I was a kid and going to museums and not feeling like I could see myself in a lot of the work. So to be on that journey now, and be able to be one of those people that will create different experiences for people that are younger than me—art fairs, museums, galleries, that is the main goal for me.
Some of my artist acquaintances are not very keen on having their work in galleries because of its restrictions. How do you feel about that?
That’s a perspective of mine that has evolved. I share those same views as your artist friends. I go into situations very hesitant and cautious. I had a beautiful experience working with a young gallerist out here. Her name is Avery Barnes and she has a gallery called TASWIRA down in Pioneer Square; and that was my first real experience. We had a sold out show, and it was just a divine timing in my life. It created a lane of hope and optimism for me, but I do understand that there is another side to it, and I think that that’s something that I’m constantly pushing through. I’m kind of just figuring it out as I go through this world. It’s always changing and everybody’s experience is unique to themselves. I think having that urgency to create and that feeling that, “I was supposed to do this.” That’s the part I try to focus on. I know I’m supposed to paint and then I’ll figure out the rest as I go.
It’s always good to see people who genuinely respect each other in collaboration.
I am drawn to people that are starting something new. I think that when our joint thirst and hunger for making something happen for ourselves comes together, magical things can happen. So for people who are also taking a risk, like Avery, she had just moved into a new location. This was going to be her first exhibit there. With Anna [Miya], I was her first client before she started her management company. I think that the circle of people that work with me have all been in that similar space when we aligned, and that space gives a lot of room for molding, shaping, growing, bending, and all of the things that have made these situations become really successful.
I saw that you and your husband just released a piece, and you two have done work together before. Is it difficult collaborating with other artists on the same painting?
I mean, in all honesty, before me and him got together, I hadn’t collaborated a lot. It was really new for me. He really opened my eyes to the world of collaboration and how impactful it can be when you join stories. And lately that’s all I’m into. I love to be creative with the creative people around me. We always joke and say “it’s the easiest part of our relationship.” But it truly is. Anyone will tell you when it comes to painting together. I think for us it truly is just a love language, so collaborating with him is the most effortless thing. We’ve literally been in fights where we weren’t talking for two days and made huge paintings together without saying a word to each other. It’s one of those things, when two people turn to canvas to express themselves, there’s no real words for it.
The word “collaboration” brings me to my next question. You’ve partnered with several reputable brands—but can that be difficult when it comes to your vision? How do you work past alignment issues, and how do you remain authentic to yourself when you’re working with these big brands?
With the big brands I try to ask for the limitations up front. Just tell me what I can and can’t do. Tell me what you want. And if it aligns, then it is a lot easier for me to say “yes” to something and to give them authentic work. If something isn’t going to work, I can feel it in my spirit before I even do it. And if something is so limiting that I know I cannot show up as my true self, I say “no.” That can be hard sometimes because I’m also raising three kids, but it’s like I cannot put out things I just don’t believe in, and I don’t want to put art in people’s homes that didn’t come from a space of really genuine, authentic storytelling.
Now, when I look at my work, that series is still at the root of everything I create. The petals falling off the eyes, the women that have really long stem necks with leaves growing from them, it all comes from that space of just reminding yourself to really take care of ourselves and take care of each other. Water yourself, water your neighbors, growing together and sometimes growing apart, and all these different phases of life that we go through. So to see where it’s gone now, it makes me emotional.
Your Water Me series is beautiful. Can you talk to me about the creation of that series and what was your feeling on the overwhelmingly positive feedback that you received from it?
That series is really very near and dear to my heart. It was one of the first things that I created where I felt like this is coming from a different space, and I held onto it for a very long time. That series was created when I was working a desk job at a radiology clinic. My mom worked there, and she got me a job. People would call and be like, “Oh, I need an x-ray on my tibia.” And I’m like, “I don’t even know what that is, but I’m going to put you on schedule.” It was a space that I knew I did not belong, and I needed to add my own space of creativity. So I had this stack of Post-it notes that sat next to my desk, and I would challenge myself.
“I’m going to come to work, and the first thing I’m going to do is try to do a one line drawing where I don’t lift up my pen and I express how I’m feeling that day.” And by the time I left there, there were just hundreds of versions of them when I was cleaning out my drawers. If anyone ever saw these, they would think I was a psycho that hoarded hundreds of yellow Post-it notes. But I started to share them. I was like, “Let me just paint one on canvas, see how it goes.” So I made one big one and I started to put it out there.
It was one of the moments where I became aware of the true impact of art. This is something I created out of a space of true necessity and just needing to express myself. Reluctantly, I put it out there and all these people can see themselves in that and see it’s representing how they also feel. My best friend passed away in 2018, and I had one I created the next day, and it just started to really document my life and other people could feel those things too.
You’re an artist, but you’re also a mother and wife. How have you been able to deal with that dynamic, especially as your career has progressed?
I think that my husband and I do our best. Me and Al-baseer, we both do the same thing for a living, we both make art, and that has created a really interesting life for all of us. And for the kids, things that are normal for them are maybe not normal for other people. People are always so amazed at how my 2-year-old can come into the studio and put her own paints on her palette and get her brush and just start going. But it’s so normal for her—it’s all she’s ever seen. So some kids imitate their parents on a computer, but my daughter grabs her colored pencils. It’s our life, and we’ve created this little creative bubble that these kids are a part of.
It’s hard at times. You have to be spontaneous, you have to be flexible. But I think for me, one of the things that balances it out and really makes it all worth it is being able to bring the kids on set, and they can see all these people with different jobs. Photographers, videographers, and stylists that all look like them. Being on this journey with the kids, it’s allowing them to truly dream big. When we were younger, I didn’t see artists that look like me on TV or on billboards.
The person that I looked at was Bob Ross. But he didn’t look like me and it didn’t feel like something I could do. Al-baseer and I always joke with each other and say, “If the galleries and institutions don’t accept us one day—whatever. As long as these kids think we’re cool and the youth understand what we’re painting and we’re putting out there, they’re going to be the ones that decide what art was impactful when we’re long gone.” So if the art can speak to them, we did our job. In the end, I feel so blessed to be living this life and living it with my family.