Nature's Basket of Colorful Markers
Ancient natural color dyeing techniques, passed hand to hand—with reverence, curiosity, and a polite amount of math.
Creativity often begins with curiosity and is refined through movement—across places, processes, and ways of seeing the natural world. Knowledge, by contrast, rarely announces itself. It is earned slowly, carried in practiced hands and in the quiet authority of those who have learned to listen long enough to understand nature's timing. In this reflection, I trace the path from designing handmade shoes in Los Angeles to encountering ancient natural color dyeing traditions in Oaxaca, Mexico. This is a story of color and craft, of resistance and restraint, of doors that close and the wisdom that emerges when they do. What follows is not a lesson in technique, but a way of paying attention.
Above, Hievre el Agua's waterfalls aren't frozen—they're petrified. Millennia of mineral deposits form a near-perfect rim, holding a pool of water that invites the daring.
Nearby, freshly cut flowers offered with a smile shaped by decades of knowing when to harvest, when to wait, and when to pass knowledge forward.
Story, Film, and Photography: Yasmina Cadiz
Remember being a child, running through the house with fists full of crayons, coloring anything that dared ask for green? I hope that child is still alive in you. She is in me. It’s how I’m wired—to see beauty and potential everywhere. So you can imagine the joy that moved through my body when I traveled to Oaxaca, Mexico, to learn ancient natural color dyeing techniques from masters of the craft.
At the time, I had set out to re-imagine baby shoes—not as disposable fashion, but as art. The idea began simply: my partner and I made a pair of shoes as a baby shower gift for a friend. Julia was studying costume design, so we knew she’d appreciate the care. Baby Stella received her first pair of cool shoes.
Among piles of extravagant gifts, our modest package stood out. Tears followed. The shoes were designed with a chic, adult sensibility, and in that moment, the idea arrived fully formed: a collection of keepsake-quality footwear, handcrafted in the USA —objects meant to honor a fleeting moment in time. Soon after the official launch word spread. Parents wanted custom pairs of their own. And before long, the work caught the attention of LVMH and the footwear world, helping spark the “mommy and me” trend before it hit mainstream.
While building this collection, I was also navigating Hollywood—leading a team of interactive designers at a corporate level while continuing to pursue film directing, an uphill battle if there ever was one. I once had a top film executive—someone who had supported me just a few years earlier—tell me, “You’ll never work as a director in this town. Find something else you love to do.”
At the time, it felt like rejection. Years later, the Me Too movement hit, and I was suddenly flung into a new dimension of perspective. I realized she may have been protecting me. I’ve learned to be grateful for every closed door, every denial, and even for the times my scripts were stolen by young interns desperate to get ahead at any cost. That path wasn’t mine.
Instead, I kept moving forward on designing the footwear collection that brought me so much joy to create. That’s how it should be. What is meant for you moves toward you. Of course, I know this now. Time teaches this well. I digress—but it’s all connected. Back to Oaxaca.
I’ve always been drawn to learning, to distant places, to cultures and conversations that expand the way I see the world. When the idea arose to create a vegan footwear line—important in Los Angeles at the time—I began researching natural color dyeing techniques for canvas and wool. That search led me to Oaxaca.
I wanted to learn alongside Indigenous women and support their community of makers. The process was meticulous: cultivating flowers, harvesting leaves and stems, honoring every part of the plant. It was science and intuition in equal measure. Creating a plant-based color dye requires math—pH levels carefully balanced, so that marigolds, honeysuckle, indigo, and lavender could sing through the fibers. Watching indigo oxidize in real time felt like witnessing nature breathe.
Oaxaca itself is a living classroom. I explored its ancient sites with childlike wonder. But Hierve el Agua stopped me completely. If you ever find yourself in Oaxaca, go. Bring a swimsuit. Wade into the mineral pools fed directly from the earth. The road getting there may not be easy—but neither is anything that changes you.
Don’t let fear keep you from discovering new markers to color your life. Travel expands us. Curiosity softens us. Adventure reminds us who we are.