Tribute to the word Piñata

The word that makes me feel happy, innocent and strong.
The tradition that taught me to see the beauty in every moment.

Growing up as a Central American kid, piñatas were a big deal. Every year I’d get to choose one for my birthday, and as that day drew closer my excitement and anticipation would build. More than a cartoon character, my piñata represented who I was at that stage of my life—my interests, my favorite color, my favorite candy. Each birthday was a celebration that marked a new milestone in my life, full of passion and color.

And as I changed through the years, so did my piñata.

Born from mangled wire in an unassuming studio, a piñata becomes more alive with each layer applied to it. The wire form is covered with white paper and glue to create a hollow structure, which is then decorated with colored tissue papers to give it movement and color. Finally, it is stuffed with as many colorful candies as you can fit inside.

It’s a work of art. But with any creation comes destruction.

When you break a piñata, there are rules. The strongest and biggest kids go last, and everyone takes turns
hitting it with all their might. Everyone wants to be the one to break it open.
People cheer, clap, laugh, cry, scream, sigh; every emotions at play.

It’s a pure state of happiness.

You learn to enjoy every second of it, because in a few moments the piñata is destroyed. But from that destruction comes something beautiful. Candy falling from the sky! Every kid’s dream.