Isidora Vives🌙 Tiktok VOD & Videos

@isivives_

Scrolling through TikTok at 3 a.m. feels different with Isidora Vives around. You’ll likely stumble upon one of her videos: just her silhouette against a Santiago skyline, the moon a glowing coin in the Chilean sky, her voice a calm murmur discussing how the waning gibbous phase might explain why you spilled coffee *twice* today. @isivives_, known online as Isidora Vives🌙, isn’t selling manifesting courses or editing apps. She’s simply sharing quiet moments under the moonlight, turning cosmic cycles into something deeply personal and weirdly relatable. Forget pressured productivity; her content feels like a late-night chat with a friend who actually *gets* your weird sleep schedule.

Isidora’s magic lies in how she makes the vast, ancient concept of moon phases feel like a cozy kitchen-table conversation. She films in her small apartment balcony overlooking Cerro San Cristóbal, often in worn pajamas, sometimes with chipped nail polish visible as she journals by candlelight. One popular video shows her carefully arranging crystals (a gift from her *abuela*) on a thrifted velvet tray during a full moon, muttering in Spanish-English mix about releasing anxiety – "maybe just *un poquito* less doomscrolling this cycle, *sí*?" Her aesthetic is warm, grainy film – no fancy transitions, just raw footage of moonrises over the Andes or quick cuts of her sipping *mate* while scribbling reflections in a leather-bound notebook stained with avocado toast crumbs.

What resonates isn’t just the astrology; it’s the Chilean texture woven through everything. She casually name-drops local spots like pulling espressos at *Café Turri*, references the ache of *fondas* during Fiestas Patrias, or shares how the supermoon made the *merengue de lúcuma* at her favorite *panadería* taste extra sweet. Her followers, who call themselves "lunáticas" or "moon children," spill into the comments sharing their own rituals: charging water bottles on windowsills, texting exes *only* during Mercury retrograde (then immediately regretting it), or how her new moon intentions prompted one girl in Valparaíso to finally call her mom. It’s community built on shared vulnerability, not clapback culture.

Born in Concepción but Santiago-based for over a decade, Isidora subtly weaves her background into content. Occasionally, she’ll film walking through *Barrio Brasil*, pointing out street art that "vibes" with the current lunar energy, or share snippets of her grandmother’s old folk remedies for lunar-induced insomnia (spoiler: it involves *boldo* tea and humming *cueca*). She’s refreshingly transparent about her own stumbles – a recent video admitted she completely forgot the last new moon while nursing a bad cold, captioned: "*Lo siento, luna. Perdón. Let’s try again?*" That humanity is why comments flood with "this is why I check your vids weekly" from nurses, students, and even a Chilean astronaut trainee.

You won’t find life hacks or sponsored cleanses here. Isidora’s corner of TikTok is a gentle reminder that the sky’s rhythms still touch us, even in noisy cities. She turns celestial events into permission to pause: to stare out the window, sip *manzanilla*, and feel less alone in the quiet chaos. In a feed full of forced urgency, her lunar lullabies feel like finding a secret garden. People don’t just follow her – they sync their breath to her pace, waiting for the next moonrise notification. It’s not magic. It’s just Isidora, the moon, and the rare comfort of being exactly where you are.