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.
