briela veneno


Finding a place inside that ecosystem required more than visibility. It required patience. Like countless artists arriving in un- familiar scenes, she found herself repeatedly having to establish credibility from the ground up.


“It is still a process I continue to navigate,” she says. “When your name is not yet widely recognized, you need stronger arguments to build credibility. That is when dis- cipline, talent and passion begin to speak for you.”


Community, in her view, is often misunderstood. It is easy to cele- brate connection in theory. Buil- ding it in practice is slower. Trust accumulates gradually. Rela- tionships develop through consis- tency rather than proximity.


“Building a scene is about crea- ting connections and making people identify with your charac- ter, your sound and your essence. Seeking opportunities is essential, but once the door opens, you need to show why you can connect with people in a genuine way.”


Many artists who move between countries describe a fractured sense of belonging. Briela does not.


She resists the idea entirely.


“I have never really felt that level of divided identity,” she says. “I see every experience as part of the process. Rather than feeling suspended between cultures, I prefer to see those influences as a source of inspiration.”


The distinction matters. Rather than creating distance from her- self, each new environment seems to have reinforced what was alre- ady there.


At the center of that remains Co- lombia.


Not as nostalgia. Not as a memory preserved at a distance. As a li- ving part of her artistic language.


“The most important thing is sim- ply being Colombian. I don’t think it will ever be a silent influence because it is fundamentally who I am.”


For Briela, that influence is emo- tional before it is musical. It exists in the way she approaches pas- sion, connection and expression.


“Being Colombian means carrying a strong emotional intensity and


“I feel that I am continuously evolving while staying connected to the essence of who I am as both a person and an artist.”


an incredible capacity to feel pas- sion deeply. Music is my passion, and being Colombian allows me to be transparent, emotional and authentic in my artistic career.”


That intensity is something she still associates most strongly with the dancefloors she came from.


Having performed across diffe- rent countries and scenes, she speaks about Colombian audien- ces with particular affection. Not because other crowds feel dis- connected, but because the re- lationship between audience and music often reveals itself diffe- rently there.


“The level of expression and


appreciation for music is espe- cially visible there,” she says. “You can truly feel the devotion on the dancefloor through the audience’s euphoric interaction and emotio- nal engagement with the music.”


Beneath the movement between cities sits another


Independence.


Behind every performance exists a layer of invisible labour. Emai- ls, logistics, finances, networking, planning. For artists operating wi- thout managers, agencies or large support structures, those respon- sibilities never disappear.


“When you are a more indepen- dent artist, you need to be capa- ble of generating opportunities and managing everything your- self,” she explains. “Financial res- ponsibilities, public relations, the search for acceptance, and both mental and physical exhaustion become highly exposed realities.”


The glamour attached to inter- national careers often obscures these realities. Migration can be creatively rewarding while simul- taneously demanding resilience on a daily basis. Both things can exist at once.


reality that


electronic music rarely discusses openly.


There have been moments where the process became exhausting. Not because she questioned who she was, but because adaptation itself requires energy.


“I have always been very clear about who I am and what I want to communicate through my mu- sic,” she says. “For me, migration has never meant changing my identity. It has meant expanding it.”


The distinction returns again.


Expansion rather than reinven- tion. Growth rather than rupture.


Looking back, Briela does not des- cribe a carefully planned trans- formation. The changes arrived gradually through experience, ex- posure and necessity. New cities brought new perspectives. New scenes demanded new skills. The evolution happened almost un- consciously.


What remains constant is the foundation underneath it.


“I feel that I am continuously evol- ving while staying connected to the essence of who I am as both a person and an artist.”


For Briela Veneno, migration has never been about becoming so- meone else. It has been about discovering how far a sense of self can travel without losing its shape.


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