By VozEs
In an age when we believe that medicine alone can cure everything, it is sometimes necessary to have conversations with ourselves, with friends, to connect with nature, or with our passions in order to find moments of reflection that lead us to healing.
Norma Gely Ortiz, a visual artist originally from Puerto Rico, realized this during a reflective conversation she had with her five-foot canvas. From that moment on, she knew with certainty that she was an artist and that continuing her master’s degree in school psychology wasn’t what she truly wanted. That canvas sent her out of her home and her comfort zone, sending her on a journey of self-discovery.
That’s how she ended up in San Francisco, a city so diverse that she not only found herself and her own dance rhythm—her loud, joyful Latin voice—but also discovered a vast array of colors, flavors, cultures, skin tones, and accents; this international mecca brought her closer to her true passion: art.
Her favorite painters include Miró, Dalí, and Kahlo, among others; she works primarily in acrylics and seeks to incorporate textures into her canvases. Through a blend of many styles—including expressionist and surrealist elements—the artist has found that the process of conversing with the canvas and moving in harmony with her paint allows her to reach the depths of her soul.
Two and a half years ago, the artist moved to Charlotte, where she has had new experiences that have enriched her creative development.
How has your journey, your migration, and stepping outside your comfort zone influenced you, and how has this experience shaped you as an artist?
Since leaving Puerto Rico, that kind of journey and experience has repeated itself several times. Here in Charlotte, I couldn’t find a job; I had several part-time gigs but couldn’t make ends meet. The financial strain was intense, so I started painting things I knew would sell and drifted away from my true self and my message.
While I was here, I had the chance to travel to Portugal; I did an artist residency, took a DNA test, and discovered that a large part of my DNA comes from there. That’s why I wanted to go and talk to people and see how we’re all so connected. That opportunity to travel makes you reflect on the connection with nature and with another culture. Now I see that in my paintings, if I’m in them, a large part of me is there, but I include elements like animals and nature, which make you wonder about something more surreal and show you how we’re connected—not just because of the similarities we share, but because we’re connected on this platform that is Mother Earth.
My message has taken shape; now I want it to spark a conversation—I want you to look at my painting and ask yourself what it says to you, to speak to the canvas as well, to strike up a conversation with your neighbor, even if you don’t know who they are—but I want you to be so captivated by what you see in my art that you break down that barrier of individualism: here, Americans live like this, in their own bubbles, never talking to anyone. I’d like you to do just that—go out, engage with someone, and create a sense of community and dialogue.
Preparing Your Entry for "Cool Globes" 
"Cool Globes" exhibition in uptown Charlotte
Now more than ever, we need to foster conversations—about race, about the pandemic, about the virus that connects us across the globe. I hope that art will open our minds so that we can think: let’s talk and connect with others because we are all living on this earth together. Even if our perspectives are very different, we must learn to coexist because we are all on the same planet, sharing it, and learn to have deep and respectful conversations.
What are the biggest artistic and cultural differences you've noticed on your various trips?
Charlotte is very different; it’s been a culture shock getting used to living here. San Francisco has a more open-minded culture—I love it, I really do. Living here (in Charlotte) is much more conservative; it’s been quite a shock, but I’ve discovered other wonderful things. The art community here is beautiful and supportive, whereas in San Francisco it’s very competitive.
I’ve been invited to exhibitions here; there’s a strong and wonderful sense of community, and I’m grateful to the universe that I’m here.
In California, I spoke more Spanish and could eat whatever food I wanted. Here, I’ve noticed a big divide among Latinos: there are those who are very much Latino and speak Spanish to you, and then there are those who want to hide their culture so they can fit in better with Anglo society. They want to be accepted, and obviously the president influences that, and the area where we live here is more conservative.
I’ve felt more racism here toward me. The first time I went to an ABC store, they wouldn’t serve me because my driver’s license was from Puerto Rico. I explained that Puerto Rico is part of the U.S., but they still wouldn’t serve me. That was the first time I experienced something like that; in California, I lived happily for two years without any problems with my license.
When it comes to art, I’ve noticed that while there is Latin American art here, there aren’t that many well-known artists. But I’d love to see more of it—I’d love for there to be stronger representation because it inspires others, motivates them, and makes them feel that this can be their home, too.
Do you feel at home here? What does "home" mean to you?
Home is a nest, and that nest can be anywhere; home is where you not only define yourself but also question who you are—you are constantly redefining yourself at home. My nest is like a castaway, always searching for a patch of land or a tree in different places. I’ve found home here, in Puerto Rico, in Thailand, in San Francisco—anywhere I’ve gone and had a genuine conversation with someone. Your home is a conversation; it’s a state of mind where you feel you can be yourself. That’s when I feel at home.
This painting speaks to the dreams that challenge the very essence of who we are and the stability we think we have. The woman isn’t dead, but she’s merely going through the motions. Stuck in a rut. Without joy, only the dream of an adventure. The flamingo represents the future that awaits her. It grabs her by the spine, as if to pull her from where she is and plant her where she will flourish.