Category Archives: Uncategorized

Between Two Worlds ( Art Challenge # 4)

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I’m adding pieces to the show as pieces are sold and removed. This new piece and others are still on view at Jesus Lopez Vega’s Gallery on the corner of Rio Zula (Rio Bravo) and Ocampo, a block south of Casa Linda in Ajijic. Open M-F  10 to 6 through April 30, 2022. 

Between Two Worlds

This piece is about old and new, peace and conflict, blended cultures, freedom and confinement, the wide variety of what the world has to offer and the need to stay on target, to have fun and to spend our time wisely. The Luchador is wearing my All State Choir pin as a belt buckle? What’s that about??? I’ve recently added this piece to the show, along with several other new pieces, as work has sold.

 

My friend Linda Levy Challenged me to post a photo of a piece of art I created each day for ten days. Here is today’s share.

Winter Reunion

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Winter Reunion

Mom has popped some popcorn and Dad has built a fire.
Snow collects on window frames as flames lick high and higher.
With pillows piled on the couch and warm rugs on the floor,
it makes a cozy little nest for tired kids to explore.

With  temperatures lowering , it’s fertile territory
for a mug of cocoa and another Grandpa story
about their Halcyon years of youth when Grandma’s evening gown
set new stylish standards for their little town.

Her look representative of a wider world,
all the girls took notice of the way her hair was curled,
and what length her skirts were and what words she used
and when Grandpa came to town, they inevitably fused.

Grandpa in his Model T, raccoon tail on the mirror,
speeding down the main street, grinding every gear.
Grandma on the sidewalk in her flapper gear,
how they got together is why we all are here.

And we are representatives, each and every one
of the whole long story of how her love was won.
These familiar stories building our education
of how a family is built on each past generation.

Prompts for the day are fertile territory, temperature, stylish, Halcyon and representative.

Our Lady of Notions (Art Challenge #3)

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Click on photos to enlarge and view as a slide show.

 

Nuestra Señora de la Merceria
(Our Lady of Notions)

The wooden Madonna which forms the centerpiece of this retablo was hand carved and painted in Oaxaca. She is surrounded by both the “notions” and implements necessary to create beautiful clothing, quilts and other fabric art. Attached to the shrine are various pieces of handicraft, quilts and garments, many of them made by my grandmother. The three tiny much-decorated garments behind her have been presented to her as thank you gifts as well. On the top platform of the retablo, another drama is being enacted. Two tiny silk Chinese figures have cut themselves free of the pincushion they had been sewn onto and have rigged bobbins and thread into an escape device. One has nearly made it to the bottom of the box. Another slides over the edge, armed with a needle, as a third struggles to cut himself free with tiny silver scissors. There seems to be some animosity between those escaped and those about to escape, as signified by the somewhat threatening position of their weapons as well as their steely glares. Surfaces are covered by buttons, needles, thimbles and other sewing notions. On the platform is an antique Singer pattern marking wheel.

This piece was inspired by a church in Michoacan, Mexico where men bring their serapes to drape around the base of the male saint on the altar and all of the women bring gorgeously decorated aprons to drape around the base of the female saint. I had a woman make my basic tiny aprons and then I decorated them.

This was the first retablo that sold the day of the opening of my show. I’m posting photos of in in response to a prompt by Linda Levy, who challenged me to post a different photo of my art each day for ten days.

 

Cold

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Cold

Furniture leaves stick by stick.
His cold furnishings in the storehouse
while I put away my feelings
one by one.
He suggests we still be friends
while we wait for new friends to happen,
as though he’s drawing closer
as he pulls away.

I keep creeping closer to the truth
that lies
in eyes
cold.
Cold
eyes,
nothing written there.

His hand edges closer
on the seat between us.
Like a deaf-mute,
all communication
in his hands.

But those hands
don’t know all
my languages.

Handless bodies
in El Salvador
might think
my demands on them
less foolish.

My mother’s hands
drumming fingers
while she told a sleepy tale.
I was always in it,
in dark forests where the bears lived,
and although she acted
like she didn’t know it,
I was in the forest, lost,
expecting bears
while only drumming fingers
foretold the presence
of something
cold.

 

For dVerse Poets
To see the prompt, “A Little Repetition,” go HERE.

Helpful Friends

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Click on photos to enlarge.

Melody
Christine

On Monday, I took three friends visiting from La Manzanilla to see my show. After first viewing the pieces at length, Christine and Melody made good use of Eduardo’s dry paint brushes to carefully remove dust from crevices I’d missed. So touching, the care they exercised in restoring my art to its former pristine state.  I love these photos.

Pam expressed her appreciation for the show by buying one of the retablos. Since the gallery doesn’t take credit cards, Christine aided the process by loaning her the cash to buy it, as she can pay her back when they get back to La Manz. What a well-oiled machine. Mind you they asked if they could do this! They are both artists and accustomed to looking at fine details and took great pleasure, they assured me, in routing out those little dust particles.

Jaina Woman II, The Harvest: Art Challenge #2

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 Linda Levy  has challenged me to show one piece of my art per day for ten days. For my second presentation, I’m showing another retablo that has sold during my show which is still up at Jesus Lopez Vega’s Studio Gallery, #1 Rio Zula on Ocampo. There’s still time to see the rest of the show!

Jaina Woman II, The Harvest

Representations of Maya women occur more commonly as Jaina figurines than in any other medium. These Jaina figures represent two kinds of women, both archetypes of female behavior. One is a stately, courtly woman who is sometimes shown weaving; the second is a courtesan who appears with all sorts of mates, from Underworld deities to oversized rabbits. The imagery of both derives from Maya concepts of the moon, perceived as an erratic, inconsistent heavenly body, whose constantly changing character follows the monthly cycle of female menses. This is a Jaina woman of the first category: stately and courtly. I have presented her as representative of the harvest, which also produces the seeds for the next year’s bounty.

Wan Skies NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 6.

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Wan Skies

Why do the clouds obscure the sun
so we must cancel all our fun?
Pale skies are not the stuff of dreams
and contradict our pleasure schemes.
Wan days, dark nights close like a fist—
fond hopes of love and being kissed.
Lover thus fading into mist.

For NaPoWriMo Day 6 we were to write a poem where the first word of each line forms a famous quote or line from a poem. Read the first word of each line to see the quote.

Dance of the Snake Woman (Art Challenge # 1)

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Dance of the Snake Woman

I’ve been nominated by Linda Levy to post a piece of my art each day for ten days. This first selection is one of the pieces in my present show that has been marked SOLD. Unfortunately, I had a terrible time getting a photo of it as it was in a frame with glass over the front and most of the photos had reflected images of other pieces hanging on the wall across from it. In this photo, I managed to get a shot with nothing except myself reflected in the glass. Just for the fun of it, I left my hands. An explanation of the piece is below. With the frame, I believe it was approximately 20 ” square.

Dance of the Snake Woman

In many cultures, the snake functions as a messenger between man and the gods or the conscious and unconscious minds. Number seven is the number of connection as well as the end result of adding numbers 3 and 4, two other numbers of special significance to me. The music box plays “A Little Night Music”—a serenade of sorts.

This piece is about connection to the world as well as one’s own nature. Movement and grounding are of equal importance, as is maintaining a keen eye, creative inspiration and practice, be it in the word of art, dance, music, photography, writing or human interaction. Each of these symbols of the universal truths of the world has a personal significance in my life, as well. My own image was captured in the glass of this piece as I took the picture. It turned out to be appropriate, I think.

The central image is the figure of a woman carved from wood by my husband Bob. It was part of a totem-like carving that had four figures, each standing supported by or supporting another one it a vertical column. In the move to Mexico, it broke into four pieces and although I originally intended to repair it, I later decided to make a collaborative piece out of each figure. Since my husband died shortly before our projected move to Mexico, it has been our last collaboration after 14 years of doing collaborative work together.

The snake extensions and all of the other collage elements were added by me.


Here is a view of the entire piece, reflections and all.

Syncopated Poesy

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Syncopated Poesy

An iamb becomes a trochee and an anapest a dactyl.
Spondees get less pointed and  the pyrrhics turn more tactile.
Syncopated Poetry turns everything around.
Loud words get hushed down and the quiet words pick up sound.
“By the shores of Gitcheegoomie” loses all its zing.
That’s what comes from meddling with a verse’s swing.

 

The Daily Spur post for the day is syncopate. In case you’ve forgotten, below are the metrical feet of poetry: iamb ul, trochee lu, dactyl luu, anapest uul, spondee //, pyrrhic uu

Syn·co·pate:to displace the beats or accents in (music or a rhythm) so that strong beats become weak and vice versa. Or, to shorten (a word) by dropping sounds or letters in the middle, as in symbology for symbolology, or Gloster for Gloucester.

The Confessions of Catwoman: NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 5

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The Confessions of Catwoman

What’s happening tomorrow?
the same thing that happens every Friday
since I was forced into retirement last year.
I’m going to go make my collections.
It will be my first day off the diet
I’ve been on for a week––
and my leathers aren’t at all as close-fitting
as they were before,
so I deserve a small reward.

That diet was low-protein, low carb and low fat,
which left nothing but grass, right?
And the problem with that was that everyone thought I was sick
and so tried to trick me into a dose of this or that.
The cod liver oil wasn’t bad,
but I’ve never developed a taste for Pepto Bismol.
A neighbor lady once sneaked some into my cream
and I gagged so hard I coughed up a hare-ball—
just the nose and whiskers, actually, but it created a sensation, nonetheless.
I was at a party and no one was yet drunk enough
to take it in their stride.

I’ve washed my hair—
Well, no surprise. I do every day.
A bit OCD on that activity,
but today I washed all of me.
Every inch.
Ears, too.

I can’t remember when I first thought
of the lucrative business
I’ve been opurrrrrrrating since my retirement;
but I do remember that tomorrow is the day
I go from door-to-door doing collections.

I usually dress in leathers,
which I look pretty good in for a mature sex-kitten.
No, not a biker chick.
I am more of a femme fatale
with a haunting and mesmerizing voice
everyone says sends chills down their back—
a sort of backyard Les Mis.

I’m a night person.
I sleep for most of the day
and go out every night.
I park my Catmobile,
then take shortcuts: leaping over walls,
soft-toeing it along the top edges of fences.

Sometimes I crouch in the bushes,
waiting for strangers to pass.
As I do, I sharpen my fingernails—
a weapon no one can take away from me.
Anyway, what good would a gun be
for a woman with no opposable thumbs?
Hey. Don’t feel sorry for me, okay?
I’m puurrrrrfectly happy with my lot in life.
I’m puurrrrfect without them.

I am sexy, fit and nimble.
I fill out my leathers in all the right places.
I can jump to the ground from a rooftop,
land on my feet and be off before you see
any more of me than a shadow.
I am a thief by birth and inclination, and I
I pre”fur” my daily fare to be purrrrrrloined.

I can take swift revenge and kill mercilessly,
or curl up and enjoy
a long petting session,
as docile as you please.

Actually, I don’t know why I’m giving you this sales pitch.
I usually ignore people,
so when I actually notice them,
they are honored.

Anyway, I’ve gotten distracted.
I’m just going to smooth my hair a bit
and then go to bed and get rested up
for tomorrow’s collections.
What kind of brilliant feline was I to create a job for myself like this?
“Cat Woman Pest Disposal––You trap them, we collect them.”

I actually get paid for going from door to door,
collecting a course here and a course there.
No of course, no matter how hungry I am after my week’s fast,
I will not reward myself in my client’s presence.
I always wait until I get to my catmobile to have my first nibble.
After all, even a retired superheroine has to watch her image.

The prompt in day 5 of NaPoWriMo is to write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature.