Hello, how are you? My name is Leonardo Lespina. I would like to share some anecdotes about my dear friend Hoda Tahzib.
When we met, we were both studying Visual Arts at the School of Arts — that was many years ago. I’m 45 now. I can’t say exactly what year or date it was, but I know it was during one of the courses we were both taking in that program. We met in one of the hallways at the university. We also shared some classes, but above all, what we shared most deeply was a sense of family connection.
Her whole family welcomed me in a very special way. I entered her home, her world, her daily life — essentially, through her sister Neda, we formed a circle of friendship that, to this day, still lasts. That connection led me to share countless moments with her, including many special ones with her mother and father, a few little trips, and many brief but meaningful moments we were fortunate to share in San Juan.
But above all, the most beautiful moments were those simple ones, the spontaneous conversations we had at her house on La Plata Street. I remember perfectly the place where we were — in Mendoza, in the fourth section — and especially that little patio where we used to sit: Neda, Hoda, and I, almost every night, especially in summer.
When we were more free, there was always a reason to talk. There were always things that inspired us to reflect on our experiences with a positive outlook. Hoda always encouraged me with her words, offered me solutions, and gave me a fresh perspective on everything — in such a simple way. It’s something I can’t and will never forget. It’s deeply imprinted on my soul.
Because I’ve never met someone with that kind of capacity. And together with her sister, both of them had — and still have — a way of honoring life and the presence of the soul, above all else. Above anything material. Always seeking happiness in simplicity, independently of anything material.
Hoda: a deeply spiritual person. A deeply coherent person. And someone who shined. She dazzled us and will continue to dazzle us. Because her essence in those days — no matter how many years go by — will always remind us that we can always do our best, and always see the best in ourselves. That we can build ourselves, and not despise life.
To let go of what’s happening — what we don’t like — because it will pass. She always said that. And eventually, it will become a memory. And if it causes pain now, in time, it will become a memory that brings joy — because it gave us a lesson. It made us stronger.
That was one of her phrases that I want to share in this small tribute to Hoda. Of all the things she used to say, she always told us not to worry so much about the things that hurt. Because somehow, what causes you pain now — when you gain distance from it — will become just an anecdote or a lesson. And it stops hurting. On the contrary, it becomes a source of pride, knowing you lived through that moment with emotional strength.
And of course, her words were much simpler and more perfectly timed than what I’m expressing now. But I do want to say that Hoda made — and will continue to make — the best impression on all our hearts, our lives, and our memories.
That’s what, in my view, makes Hoda always present. Because it was her words that transcended, along with her gaze and her way of being in the world with such coherence. And, of course, the beauty of all that is captured in her art — an art full of detail, time, and attention.
Her work was never superficial. Artistically, Hoda always showed incredible dedication. Everything she did had a reason and a particular form. It was never improvised. Her message was always conveyed in the best way — the way she chose to express it.
And that’s why I want to say that Hoda is a person who remains with us, and who still gives us much to reflect on and much to share with others — through all the positive ways in which our lives were touched, for those of us who had the immense opportunity and blessing to know her.