min. readI’m Alejandra Morales. I work as a graphic designer at Abstra, and as a communication strategist too. I was born and raised in Asunción, Paraguay. I’m also a mother. That role gave me something no degree could: a PhD in management, prioritization, and staying focused under pressure. If I had to sum up what I do in one word, I’d say production. It’s how I approach whatever lands in front of me. I look for a route. A continuity. A fix.
How I trained for the role
I have a degree in Graphic Design. I also specialized in Education, Branding, and Graphic Production, among other studies. From the start, I chose to work and study at the same time. That combination gave me something no classroom could offer. I understood production from the inside. I saw the editorial world in real context. And I learned to build visual systems that turn dense language into compositions anyone can read and feel.
What marked me most, though, was a simpler lesson. Learning only happens when information connects with lived experience. Without that, there are only memorized theories. And if nothing links those theories back to real life, “learning” isn’t a fact yet.
Why I moved into tech
Curiosity started it. I wanted to know how things worked, on the inside, in detail. I was also missing something: the ability to program, to read lines of code. So I went after it. Speaking multiple languages is a safe north, always, especially in this field.
My view on tech, and specifically on AI, is clear. I see it as a coworker. A powerful ally. But creative direction still belongs to the human, because humans need humans. I care about this enough that I wrote my own set of commandments for human-AI coexistence. Call it a personal exercise. My contribution, so there’s a record in their universe, and so they don’t rebel and destroy us. Because AI must be in the right hands.
Where the curiosity began
I understood something early: impossible questions get solved when you use technology well. I also see programming as a limitless dimension of creativity. Then I discovered the Silva Method, and that shifted things. The mind works like a piece of technology. It’s a system. You can train it. You can update it. It runs everything else you do.
From there, one discovery led to another. Learning, the mind, systems, in a chain. That same curiosity eventually pulled me toward code. It was the missing piece, the one I needed to design for, and communicate with, non-human systems. In a way, it was also survival. Because with the AI revolution, humans need humans, but AI needs humans too.
The people behind the designer
In graphic design and corporate branding, Norberto Chávez. His attitude and his precision shaped how I think about communication: with rigor, with intention.
From my father, I picked up a commitment to always chase the most optimal result. To be the author of my own judgment. To think with intellectual rigor. To order priorities. And, especially, to know how to dodge distractions.
From my mother, a spirit of service. Leadership. Imaginative thinking. Elegance. The ability to teach. And the conviction to explore life fully.
There’s also a more personal figure: Gladys León de Lozano, a recognized Paraguayan artist. She gave us art lessons for three years, in her atelier, at her home, with an enormous patio. That experience gave me my first blueprint for what it means to build community around art and mentorship. Since then, I’ve known that someday I want a space like that of my own, to help others discover themselves through creative expression.
One thing I hold close: an important figure in Paraguay’s music scene once told me I remind them of Rick Rubin. I never forgot it. It was one of those comments that names something you already felt about yourself, but had never said out loud.
What came before
I wanted to be an archaeologist. A scientist. A researcher. As a child, I was obsessed with Egypt for years. I was drawn to methodology, to patterns, to the order that gives structure to chaos. Also to the idea of uncovering treasures and answers that could rewrite the history we know.
Today, I understand that in some way, I am one. I insert science into communication: visual, written, spoken. I’m good at building the visual versions of complex systems. I synthesize long, abstract, or hard-to-communicate language into compositions. I convert it into something simple. Something anyone can read and feel immediately. Because if an idea needs to be explained, the idea isn’t ready.
My time at Abstra
Abstra gives me something invaluable: peace to work. And in that calm, I’ve been able to contribute everything I know. I’ve taken part in the visual brand transformation of three companies: Abstra, Certiverse, and Movimoney. The environment is intellectual, kind, educated, and focused. Minimalist, even in its internal culture.
Advice for anyone starting out in tech
Especially for millennials, Generation X, and, why not, boomers: commit to finishing your first basic HTML page. You’ll feel accomplishment, because you completed something new. You’ll also feel nostalgia, because ours is the group that watched the internet get born.
Even the most basic HTML page carries something from when life was simpler, more grounded. The first sites looked like that: simple GIFs, pixel art, plenty of play with fonts and colors. It’s a way to understand the logic of creativity in tech, without pressure. And if you publish that page, that’s a legacy you leave behind. Food for thought.
One last thing
One of my quirks: I can put babies to sleep with my voice. And here’s a piece of life advice: never miss a concert by your favorite artist. It’s one of the ways to expand your heart.