Alive Among the Dead

The days approached steadily, as they do each year—filled with anticipation, hope, and a tinge of sadness. After all, Día de Muertos is a time to honor those we have “lost.” Yet nothing is ever truly lost—and that is why this celebration overflows with life in Mexico.

The fields of marigolds—cempasúchil, the flower of the dead—burst into golden bloom. Their color, like small suns, symbolizes the eternal cycle of life and light, guiding returning souls home with their glowing hue and pungent scent. Alongside them, the deep crimson cresta de gallo (cockscomb) blooms in velvety folds, representing the blood of life and the enduring vitality of spirit. Together they speak a language of remembrance—sun and heart, light and love intertwined.



Armfuls of flowers are carried to home altars and gravesites. Marigold petals spill across store entrances, and hotels glow with candles and color. Parades surge through the streets—comparsas of every kind—people of all ages marching, drumming, and laughing. Happiness abounds, as if the dead were truly alive again.

This year’s grand comparsa wound through the streets for over an hour, lined on both sides with cheering crowds. Bands played in wild rhythm, costumed marchers paraded alongside dancers balancing baskets of marigolds on their heads, and bright floats rolled past in a joyful burst of revelry.

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From our village of San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, we drove into Oaxaca City to join the festivities and take part in our own small way. My camera, of course, was always in hand—this is a photographer’s dream come to life.

Our ofrenda

Barbara and Russ

By chance we met Barbara and Russ, a lovely couple visiting from Vermont who collect my artwork—a sweet coincidence amid the celebration. The festival draws to a close this evening, with a band playing at the Zócalo, the heart of town. Amy and I will meet our collector friends there, savoring the last notes of music before the candles fade and we begin to wait again—for next year’s return of the spirits.

Artistic Synergy - A Rich Dialogue

For the last several years, the difference between Amy’s art and mine has been nothing short of stark. My wife´s work celebrates enchantment, natural connection, and storytelling, capturing the magic of life in bright colors and symbolism. My art embraces the spectral inevitability of death, portraying it as a journey and reminder of ultimate transformation.

Together, our styles create a rich dialogue: her vibrant, dreamlike imagery invites wonder and warmth, while my skeletal motifs—rooted in Oaxaca’s Día de Muertos traditions and European vanitas art—are a haunting meditation on mortality. The balance of light and shadow, joy, reverence and sense of fate, gives our studio, called Dos Venados, a unique and deeply meaningful identity. Our art isn’t just about individual expression—it’s a shared narrative of transformation, memory, and the cyclical nature of existence.

Embracing The Essence

From my ongoing “Vanitas” series, these two skeletons seem to capture moments of life—and death—in a quiet yet playful way. Painted in my studio here in Oaxaca, Mexico, they embrace the essence of Día de Muertos, where the veil between life and death thins, and we celebrate both.

The skeleton eating the watermelon was one of the earliest pieces in the series. I call him "Watermelon Man", or El Hombre Sandía. For a couple of years, it hung by our kitchen, a familiar presence that my wife and I grew fond of. It radiated a rustic charm, with the cowboy hat and simple meal evoking a nostalgic, carefree joy. When it sold to a collector, it left an unexpected void, and I felt the need to create a counterpart—this time, a more feminine figure.

The second painting, "La Catrina", completed just in time for Día de Muertos, shows a skeleton enjoying a steaming cup of tea, her large, elegant hat adorned with flowers. The timing was serendipitous, as it coincided with the beginning of the season; October 27 -  November 4 each year. 

La Catrina is an iconic symbol of Mexican identity and is often seen in decorations, art, and festivities related to Día de los Muertos, reminding people that death comes for everyone, regardless of social status.

These paintings, like the holiday, blend humor, nostalgia, respect, and a touch of reverence, reminding us of the fleeting yet beautiful nature of life.

Vanitas artworks serve as memento mori, reminding viewers that life is short and that they should reflect on the spiritual or moral dimensions of existence rather than becoming absorbed in temporary, worldly concerns. Vanitas paintings often have an introspective, philosophical tone but can also blend in subtle irony or dark humor, acknowledging the tension between life’s pleasures and the inevitability of death.

For more art from Amy and Steven Boone: Dos Venados Studio