Angélica Pena Gonzalez: a.k.a. Angie
A photographer whose work channels a fierceness and power she calls “high frequency energy”
I first spotted Angie’s work at Hacienda Plaza in Saladita, her portraits of female surfers conveying a power that had little to do with surfing or beauty or sensuality—there was a presence to the participants that made them seem more like warriors, anything but laid-back “surfer girls”. After I noticed her work, I learned Angie called herself an “artivist”. I also started seeing her regularly at Hacienda Plaza, leading workshops and working on projects, by herself and with other people. We sat down together last week and talked for about an hour about her past and her present.


Edited for length and clarity
LOT: What is an artivist?
Angie: It’s literally the combination of art and activist. The biggest project I have channeled, that just came through me, is the Real Woman Art Movement, which has grown from being a photo shoot into being a ceremony. It has the impact of an ad campaign, like when you see brands, big brands, doing a campaign to activate minds, activate change—that’s activism. A lot of people do activism through boycotts or painting things on walls, stuff like that. There are so many ways you can do activism. For me, I put my passions together, which are visual arts and healing, being a facilitator, being someone who creates safe spaces for others. I put it all together a few years ago when I was in Portugal, having dinner, and a woman randomly said, “You’re an artivist!” And I’m like, “Well, yes, I am.” That word is very precise in describing what I do with my art campaigns—I combine art and activism. You know, activism can be done through the energy of shame and guilt. I try to create activism through inspiration—focusing on what we can do—versus reinforcing what is wrong in society.

LOT: And where do you see that making a difference?
Angie: The Real Woman Art Movement has been 99% women because when I started doing this niche-down kind of art, my mission was to be a seed of change in the world of body dysmorphia and body hatred—the ego of if you don’t look this way, you’re ugly or you’re not worthy—because that was my own pain. I grew up having that pain for decades. When I started to do photography, I realized I was part of the problem—as a photographer, as a content creator, as a marketer—I was also falling into the unconscious habit of selecting models, curating and editing a “style” of beautiful. But then I realized, “Oh, no, I’m part of the problem. I’m part of the Hollywood, the media, the malls curating this one certain look, making the rest feel ashamed of their bodies because they don’t look that way.” The Real Woman Art Movement I’ve been growing impacts people who see that imagery, consciously or unconsciously, because they get to see more examples of women glowing—and happy, and empowered, and radiant, and attractive—in different body types and okay with their imperfections.
Every time I create something, I try, for the most part, to set an intention, a loving intention. And sometimes when someone looks at art, they’re not aware of what it’s doing to their ego, to their soul, to their nervous system. Anything that has a higher frequency will heal you, right? So, if you see art showing people who are in harmony, who are in oneness or in community—versus separation and ego—it helps you to love that more, to accept that more so. So, to me, art is a powerful tool for change.
LOT: Where is your work taking you?
Angie: I’m aware today of the abundant life I live thanks to my art. I pray for more beautiful surprises in the future. I actually call it “heART”, heart with a capital a-r-t. That’s a play on words, art and heart, you know, soul. About two years ago, I started noticing the level, the quality, of the humans who have come to my life thanks to my art—it’s priceless. They come through social media, from sitting in cafés, like here, or wherever I travel. If it wasn’t me staying true to my art, maybe this tribe of mine wouldn’t’ve found me. I call this phenomenon “your tribe will literally come out of the bushes”. It’s a phenomenon I’ve been witnessing where people reach out to me, contact me. That’s one place it’s taking me. Where else is it taking me? It’s giving me financial stability; it’s giving me freedom of movement; it’s allowed me to grow as a human being. It’s also keeping me accountable to stay in integrity. The Real Woman Art Movement has a lot to do with sisterhood and oneness, and becoming a loving human. Anytime ego creeps in—fear or envy or so on—I check in with myself and I’m like, “Oh, no, Angie, that’s not for you, like, you’ve been putting out art and content out there on social media about love and oneness and respect and all these things.” Because ego will always creep in again and again and again, my work helps me to stay accountable.

LOT: How did you get started in art and photography?
Angie: I always pinpoint this moment in time to when I read the book Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life [by Héctor García Puigcerver and Francesc Miralles Contijoch]. Ikigai—you can call it dharma, you can call it your vocation, your North Star, your unique gifts, your essence, your genius—it’s something that comes through you easily. In the book, there’s a Venn diagram that shows an interlocking combination of what you’re good at, what you can get paid for, what you love and what the world needs. In it, in the middle of those circles, is your ikigai, your mid-point, the balance point where you’ll find your way, your righteous path. I’m so grateful for my friend Dani who made me sit down, with pen and paper, to do the journaling prompts in the book. In doing that, I realized how much photography was huge for me. Back then, I was doing food photography and, because of my sense of scarcity, I fell into doing it for the money which led me to shooting models in Tulum, real estate and stuff like that.
One day, I was driving with a friend of mine in Tulum and he was just talking, saying, like, “I have this artistic project.” And in my mind, I was like, “But what is this for? Like, who’s the brand? Like, why are you making this? Like, it seems like a lot of work.” Out loud, I said, “And who’s going to pay you for this?” And he’s like, “No, it’s just for the art of doing art”. For the first time in my life, in my mind, I was like, “Wait, what? You’re telling me I could just do art for the art of art?” That moment gifted me the permission to, for example, in my case, go to Pinterest and just start to get inspired, you know, “Oh, this is cute or, oh, I like that”. It was the first time ever that I started to create my own pro bono stuff, without any influence of what a client wants. I started to try things for my own artistic expression and, like, fast forward into the pandemic—okay, this is my style, this kind of disruptive art, very Wes Anderson and very weird, but also soft and feminine, and coming out of my own pain, my own body dysmorphia, my own body hatred—and needing to make money. I asked myself, “What’s a creative form of marketing that I can do?”
That same friend in Tulum was doing influencer marketing, where he would exchange free photo shoots for other influencers so they would promote it on their Instagram, and out of that he would get clients. That was the birth of the Real Women Art Movement because I started inviting people on WhatsApp groups to come together. I’m like, “Hey, let’s do a collective photo shoot. This is the intention and these are the inspiration boards that I’ve been collecting”. That was a huge milestone. That’s where it all started out for me. And then during the photo shoot and after the photo shoot—this is the part I was not expecting, the soulful part of it—all these women, and people who weren’t even part of the photo shoot, would come up to me and say, like, “Thank you so much for this. I needed this.” I started to get curious about, “Why are they thanking me? What am I doing?” Now, I’m aware that thanks to my art, I’m healing others. I’m actually transmitting inspiration and change, and dismantling stereotypes. Sometimes even just the physical presence of the photo shoot provides people a somatic release, a radical exposure. It’s like shock therapy. I see people pushing themselves out of their comfort zone, allowing themselves to be seen, raw and real.

LOT: One of the things that drew me to your art is that you make people powerful, almost fierce. How do you do that?
Angie: Okay. Wow. I think it literally goes hand in hand with what I just finished up with. I was not aware before this all started. I was just sensitive to humans, good at how to make people feel safe and comfortable and acknowledged. So, when I started as a photographer, that’s what I was doing, just being sensitive to people’s energies. Some people are very hurt and have a lot of ego. They need to be treated in a certain way. It’s been almost six years, maybe more, and I’m pretty aware now of what I’m actually facilitating, and what's happening when I’m guiding. What I can narrow it down to—it’s like a combination of yoga, Tai-chi, breathwork, cognitive behavioral therapy—is that before the photo shoot, I’m asking them to give me their loving intentions. I’m asking them to bring themselves to me from out of their soul. That starts the power right there.
On the day of the photo shoot, before we start, we sit down and we drop in. We close our eyes and we connect with source. Call it “god”, call it “universe”, call it whatever you want to call it. We harvest energy, high frequency energy. By the moment that human is standing, posing, they’ve already opened up their heart, they’re channeling, I’m channeling, loving words based on our intentions. There’s so much love happening. That makes them feel safe. For example, I’ll say things which perhaps other photographers don’t do or may not be sensitized to, things like, “Don’t worry, the first few shots are going to be awkward. That phrase gives permission for this ego, this human mind to relax, to step out of flight or fight and step into creativity. When they do that, they’re harnessing the higher frequency, so, in that moment, they become powerful.

LOT: Where did you grow up?
Angie: I was born an hour north of Guadalajara, in Tepatitlan de Morelos, in Jalisco. It has a cowboy culture, like mariachi rodeo. My family were migrants. When I was in elementary school, I lived in California, and then I came back for middle school, high school and university in the Guadalajara area. I got a degree in diseño integral from the University of Guadalajara. I graduated and then started traveling.
LOT: What is diseño integral?
Angie: It translates as holistic design or comprehensive design or integral design. It’s a study track that prepares you for a career in several aspects of design. I focused on graphic design and branding, especially towards the end of the program. I got a little taste of photography during that time, but never did I ever believe that I could be a photographer as a full-time thing. When I was younger, you only had these specific types of careers—ones that were money-making—and photography was not a thing. A photographer was like an artist; only a certain few get to be a photographer.

LOT: You said you went traveling. Where did you travel to?
Angie: I lived one year in Canada, three months in Australia, then one year in France, in Paris, and then another year in Portugal, and a few months in Morocco.
LOT: What brought you to Saladita?
Angie: Have you read the book The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho? It kind of feels fictional, like a fantasy book. People call it an allegory but, for me, it’s real-life stuff. It’s taught me to notice signs from the universe, god, whatever you wish to call it. The story of Santiago is a hero's journey—he leaves, he goes, he discovers and he comes back, different, grounded, sensitive to omens, signs and lessons in a way he wasn’t before. All that is to say, that year I lived in Portugal, my goal was to learn how to surf. I’d learned how to skateboard in the pandemic in Playa del Carmen, next to Tulum, while I was learning how to be a photographer. My nomadic expat family there kept saying that Portugal was where it’s at, Lisbon in particular. I was doing a unique style of skateboarding, called “longboard dancing”, where you’re stepping across the board, crossing your feet and stuff, and turning around. There was a community of skater influencers two hours north of Lisbon. So, I’m like, “Okay, this is where it’s at.” Again, I’m thinking omens, signs—like whatever aligns and feels good, and everyone’s telling me to go—so I took a leap of faith, even though my vision board was not quite saying “Portugal”. Once I was there, I discovered I don’t like wetsuits; I realized I want to surf in a swimsuit. I knew this place wasn’t “it”. But while I was there, going to longboard festivals, learning to surf, learning to express myself, people there were like, “Dude, you should live in Mexico. You should learn to longboard on a wave.” At the end of that year, I had to choose between staying and getting residency, or not. By then, I’m like, “Okay, this is not where it’s at.” And I moved here with my skateboard and my bag. I didn’t know anyone. I arrived by myself, following the omens, people who didn’t know each other telling me, “You should live in Saladita.” And here I arrived, feeling so aligned.


LOT: What were your first experiences here?
Angie: Oh my god, I’d like to say everything was so easy and epic, but the universe has a cheeky way of humbling me, again and again. I find that if I haven’t learned to grow out of a pattern, it will come back. What I mean with that is that when I arrived here, I was like, “Oh, life is epic. I’m thriving”. I can say my ego was really high. I came here like a wrecking ball. I arrived here announcing, “I’m going to make this my home.” And I was humbled. I made a lot of mistakes. I was sending out an energy that was not in harmony with what was going on around me. I mean, I moved to a place that's all about surf culture and I didn’t know how to surf or how to be part of that culture. I went out into the line-up and I was a kook. I was not aware of how important it is to respect the surf etiquette of not dropping in, of learning to take your time, not snaking, and stuff like that. It was an ignorance combined with so many new things to learn. I felt bullied, like I was back in middle school, where I did get bullied. Those first three months here were like that. I was going through a lot. I felt really low.
LOT: What was your first project here?
Angie: The first project I did was actually the Real Woman Art Movement, the longboard fine art prints that are downstairs in Hacienda Café.

LOT: What are you working on now?
Angie: I’m working on the skate park here at Hacienda Plaza with Frank. We haven’t done too much yet. We just started this past week. Right now, the skate park is a tiny wooden ramp, which is beautiful, but it’s not enough to create community. The goal is to do a bowl out of concrete, and hopefully do some more around it. I’m also working on the photography art retreats that I do here once a year—Flow2Glow—it’s workshops and rituals, dream life practice, dream life inspiration. I’m also working on my sticker empire. I’m going to create stickers and sell them all over the world. It’s going to make me rich [big smile].
LOT: What’s next for you?
Angie: Growing here. I feel like the skate park is such an important platform for me, and hopefully for the community as well. In Mexico, it’s called tejido social, the social fabric. It’s what brings people together. I’m excited to see how a skate park can bring a diversity of demographics together, to work with a location that has that intention, to have families want to bring their kids, to have pro skaters bring their egos and their talents. That can be a clash, but having an intention of bringing groups like that together, of bringing together different types of humans, is already a big win.
LOT: Ok. One last question. Something more speculative. What does the phrase “incite delight” bring up for you?
Angie: Wow. I think that correlates with what we’ve already talked about, about what I’ve been creating—artivism—how you can choose to create content, art, buildings, businesses, apps, websites, blogs from the energy of inspiration versus ego, shame and other low frequency emotions. For me, “incite delight” applies to everything, like, if you create something, be it a dish, a potluck, a movie, and do it with that intention, then it will “incite delight” in others who get to taste it, see it, work with it.
I’ve never really used the word “delight”. It’s not in my usual language. It comes back to energy for me. My biggest intention is to make art that inspires, heals and gives you high frequency energy. When I think of “delight”, I think about longboarding, where I feel like I’m dancing, where I’m doing these turns—it’s delightful. It correlates to my ritual with surfing, talking to Mana [the Polynesian name for the life force], the energy that creates waves and everything else. I’ve learned over these last few years to give thanks to everything. Sometimes before I paddle out, I find flowers and I offer them to the wave, and when I leave the wave, I look back and I send a kiss. That helps me live and feel life, in “delight”, in the light, in high frequency energy.

LINKS
Personal + photography: https://www.instagram.com/angiegophoto
Real Women Art Movement: https://www.instagram.com/realwomen_movement


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