Rekindled Friendship

 

Amy and I occasionally have the pleasure of meeting friends from the United States when they come to Oaxaca on vacation. This past week one of Amy’s dearest friends from her former life in Taos, New Mexico came with her daughter and daughters fiancé to visit. They booked a hotel in Centro. We arranged a tour guide for them, and spent precious moments going places together and visiting in our home.

A highlight of our time together was El Museo del Tallador de Sueños; A haven of whimsy and wonder, it is small museum of magical woodcarvings called Alebrije´s. Located in Arrazola, the village neighbors ours. 

The museum is a testament to the artistry and imagination of Oaxacan woodcarvers. What made this visit even more special is Amy's connection to the famous family of artists who own the museum. We are friends with the Jimenez family who own the museum. In fact, Amy made the illustrations for a book called Dream Carver published in the USA and made into a muppets play.

Now, a huge mural adorns the wall at the museum replicating her illustration from the book.

As our Taos friends marveled at the intricate carvings and vibrant hues of the Alebrijes, they couldn't help but be swept away by the enchantment of it all.

With carvings in hand, tangible mementos of their time together and the artistry of Oaxaca, they bid farewell to the museum, hearts brimming with newfound admiration for this corner of the world. The journey had not only rekindled old friendships but also deepened appreciation for the beauty that thrives in spaces between cultures and across borders.

For more about the magic . . .

Timeless Faces

We see masks often here in Oaxaca. There are many celebrations throughout the year when masks are worn along with a traditional costume.

Mexican masks have a rich history deeply intertwined with cultural and religious practices. These masks have been used since ancient times, dating back to 3000 B.C., initially by priests for summoning gods and during sacrifices. When the Spanish arrived, they introduced the devil to Mexico. Soon after, horns were added to the masks of native gods, transforming them into "devils" to promote Christianity. Devils often appeared alongside death at festive occasions. Yet, the Aztec underworld was not a place of punishment, thus, people were less fearful of death. The devil became a benign figure. 

Recently a new friend we made on the coast insisted we simply must see an exhibit of masks in Oaxaca. Called Timeless Faces, at a museum founded by artist/philanthropist Fernando Toledo in the village of San Agustin Etla the exhibition of 700 pieces is from the anthropologist René Bustamante's collection.

Amy and I made the 50 minute drive from our village to see the exhibit. For a Saturday, it was remarkably quiet. The building is grand and the grounds too. Climbing the grand, broad stairway in front, we entered the cavernous space full of masks. What a delight for two artists that love culture. Immediately we became engrossed, wandering off separately then recombining to marvel and discuss.

Most traditional masks are made of wood, while some are made from leather, wax, cardboard, papier-mâché, or other materials. They commonly depict old men and women, animals, the fantastic or supernatural.  

Masks, including devil masks, have been an integral part of Mexican cultural and religious life, with mask makers being revered members of society. Today, devil masks in Mexico retain features of ancient gods, showcasing a blend of pre-Hispanic history and Spanish influence. These masks are used in various dances and rituals, symbolizing a fusion of the two cultures and serving as a link between Mexico's past and present traditions.

Wearing masks during mystical, religious or communal celebrations is practiced across the globe.

Personally, I have always enjoyed masks and own a small collection of African, Asian and Venetian masks. 

My brother from Santa Barbara, California is coming in a couple weeks to visit us. His wife is originally from Mexico. Amy and I will return with them and see the exhibit again.

Remembering Deceased Loved Ones

Each year, Dia de Muertos, or Day of the Dead arrives to great fanfare in Oaxaca, Mexico. The holiday has indigenous roots and combines elements of pre-Hispanic beliefs with Catholicism, and is dedicated to honoring and remembering deceased loved ones.

Dia de Muertos occurs at the end of October and first 2 days of November. It is a a vibrant and deeply meaningful celebration⏤a traditional Mexican holiday celebrated throughout the country, particularly in the region of Oaxaca. 

At this time, families create elaborate altars, known as "ofrendas," in their homes, adorned with marigold flowers, candles, photographs of the departed, and their favorite foods and drinks. These ofrendas are believed to help guide the spirits of the deceased back to the world of the living for a brief reunion with their families.

People also visit cemeteries to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones. Families gather to share stories and memories, and there is often music, dancing, and other festivities. The atmosphere is one of both reverence and joy, as it is believed that during Dia de Muertos, the boundary between the living and the dead is temporarily lifted, allowing for a special connection with those who have passed away.

In essence, Dia de Muertos in Oaxaca, Mexico, is a celebration of life and death, a time for families to come together, honor their ancestors, and celebrate the continuity of life beyond death. It's a unique blend of indigenous traditions and Catholicism, creating a rich tapestry of cultural significance and remembrance.

Our ofrenda, 2022

Today during our Sunday free art session for our neighbor children, we made decorated masks from gourd shells. Everyone worked happily on the project and went away with a creation to share with family and friends.

Life in the Balance

In the heartland of Mexico, where azure skies stretch over vast, rolling fields, a way of life has been intricately woven with the golden threads of corn. Our village of San Pedro Ixtlahuaca is on the outskirts of a worldwide cultural capital: Oaxaca. Our home is surrounded by corn fields that are planted in the beginning of the wet season that lasts from June through September. For generations, small farmers have depended on planting their corn crops, nurturing them with dedication. These farmers, often with weathered hands and faces etched with stories of perseverance, understand the dance between the heavens and their fields. Their hopes, dreams, and sustenance spring from the corn they sow. Yet, if the rains prove unkind during the critical growing season, these dreams are shattered, leaving behind daunting uncertainty. 

This year all looked good and I could look out over the green rows of corn and breathe in the vibrancy. Two companions of corn are sown among the corn⏤pole beans and squash. 

Then in mid September the rains stopped prematurely. It did not take long for the stalks to begin to wither. Unfortunately, now there is not much to harvest, and most of the fields will be fed to cattle. 

The delicate balance upon which the lives of our neighbor farmers depend is fragile. The rhythm of their existence is dictated by the capriciousness of nature, specifically the rainfall during the growing season. If rains prove to be scant, the corn crops suffer. The once vibrant emerald green fields wither under the scorching sun, and the once-promising stalks stand stunted, bearing the weight of dashed hopes. In these moments, the very essence of life as they know it hangs in the balance. 

In rural landscapes of Mexico, small-scale agriculture is not merely a livelihood; it is a heritage passed down through generations. Families rise with the sun, hands calloused from tending the soil, planting the seeds of their hopes within the nurturing earth. Among these seeds, maíz holds a special place. It is not just a crop; it is a cultural icon, a symbol of resilience, and source of sustenance. In the fields, the very essence of Mexican identity is rooted.

Not long ago, before climate change, more fields existed. Now, with all the uncertainty, land is being sold in lots, called “lotes.” As Amy and I drive to town, we see a plenitude of signs vending lots for sale. Already numerous lots have been sold around us. 

Small farmers, with unwavering spirit and deep connection to the land, continue to plant their seeds, nurturing the fragile promise of a better tomorrow. But, perhaps new techniques are needed to continue production of the sacred maíz. Hope must be found, rising like a resilient sprout through the hardened cracks in the parched Tierra Madre, our mother, the Earth.

Living Between Two Worlds

As we moved between two countries, we carried with us a beautiful blend of cultures, traditions, and experiences. We know that home is not confined to a single place; rather, it is a tapestry woven from the threads of the people we love and the memories we hold dear. Our hearts now span across borders, and we find ourselves at ease in both Mexico's vibrant embrace and Santa Fe's familiar allure.

In this journey between places, we've come to realize that we are incredibly fortunate to have the best of both worlds. Mexico, with its soulful and sincere friendships, teaches us the value of human connections and endless possibilities for adventure. On the other hand, Santa Fe and Taos, with their cosmopolitan charm, upscale culture, the beloved landscape with its great vistas and soaring mountains, and many dear relationships, reminds us of our deep roots there and growth that came with years of living.

Home is more than just a physical place; it's a feeling of belonging, love, and nostalgia. For Amy and me, “Old” Mexico and “New” Mexico are home. For four decades we made a beautiful life in Santa Fe, New Mexico, a famous city in the USA on the forefront of creativity and cultural diversity. For some of that time, Amy lived in Taos, the place of her ancestors and rich intersection between Spanish, Native American and Anglo cultures. 

Recently for one month, we embarked on a sojourn from Mexico where we presently live, back to our former home, and the experience was nothing short of marvelous.  Amy also visited her family in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She stayed with her sister and oldest son and spent time with her two sons and four grandchildren. We are fortunate to experience the best of both worlds. 

My daughter Sarah and I

We bought our home near Oaxaca about 3 1/2 years ago. It is the reason we arrived in Mexico. The house is soulful, and called us to purchase it. We soon realized the challenges that come with moving into a foreign culture; especially since we live in a pueblo that is poor by American standards. I could write a book about the experience thus far. 

Living in a country with a language distinct from our mother tongue has presented tests, but also teaches the value of communication beyond words. The warmth of a smile, the laughter shared over a meal, and the genuine care and concern for one another transcend linguistic barriers. In Mexico, we find a place where simplicity and genuine connections hold more significance than material wealth.

Stream in the Rio Grande Gorge, New Mexico

Returning to Santa Fe felt like revisiting the past and reconnecting with old friends. The familiarity of the English language was a comfort, and being surrounded by familiar faces was a heartwarming experience. Our sojourn allowed us to reminisce about the years gone by and cherish our lasting friendships that transcend time and distance. We met with so much kindness and generosity. Further, we brought back to Mexico donated gifts of art materials to share with our neighbor children in our pueblo. 

Amy with neighbor kids

Our story is one of love, appreciation, and the beauty of living between two worlds. While Mexico, our humble and beloved home, provides us with soulful and sincere connections, Santa Fe, our former abode in the wealthy USA, offers us the warmth of familiar faces and a history filled with fond memories. As we continue our journey through life, we carry with us the best of both worlds, forever grateful for the unique and cherished places that have shaped us into who we are today.

Nothing Short of Magical

As we bid farewell to Santa Fe, and prepare to return to our beloved Oaxaca, Mexico, our hearts are filled with gladness. We carry with us not only cherished memories and experiences but also the kindness and love of the friends who have embraced us throughout our journey. They have touched our lives in profound ways, leaving an indelible mark on our hearts, reminding us of the power of human connection and the beauty of genuine relationships.

Not once in our month sojourn did we have to stay in a hotel or rent accommodations. Friends provided everything we needed and ensured our comfort.

Amy's mural

I have many life experiences associated with Santa Fe, having lived in “The City Different’ for over four decades. Amy too, but especially the nearby city of Taos where her family ancestry goes back four centuries. This return felt invigorating, especially stepping back into a very clean world with all the amenities and opportunities that do not exist where we live now. 

We went to Taos overnight. It is where Amy spent many years and is the land of her ancestors. While there we visited her enormous mural on the side of a wall at the University of New Mexico. Amy then went north—to Minneapolis-St.Paul for two weeks to visit with family and do some work. After she left, I had the opportunity to see my beloved daughter Sarah who lives an hour away, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. We went to the zoo there. The day was so hot that most of the animals were hiding or resting lethargically in the shade, but we enjoyed ourselves and rejoiced in our togetherness. 

I had an opportunity to experience the annual Santa Fe Folk Art Festival that draws artists and craftspeople from all over the globe for one weekend. It is a celebration of cultural diversity. 

Santa Fe has a vibrant summer music scene and many nights are alive with free concerts for the community. We discovered the joy of dancing to music alongside fellow residents, joining in the celebrations at free venues located in the charming rail yard and lively plaza. These moments of shared revelry were a testament to the unity and camaraderie that define this city. Traveling bands come from all around to play. While Amy was gone, I went alone to hear the music and often ran into people from my past that I had forgotten.

Sarah at Albuquerque Zoo

I had time for walks in the National forest in the mountains above Santa Fe, and to drive into the Rio Grande Gorge and follow the river for awhile. The days have been exceedingly hot, so it was cool respite to find a stream where I could sit in a pool by boulders under cascading water.

Generous souls have donated art supplies for us to take back to the children we serve in our pueblo. We have two suitcases full of materials and projects.

During our time in Santa Fe, we embarked on various endeavors that required our attention. Among them was the task of selling items we had been storing, which provided an opportunity to declutter and move forward with renewed purpose. 

The time in Santa Fe, New Mexico, has been nothing short of magical. The kindness and love of friends, breathtaking landscapes, the vibrant community, and the invaluable moments of reconnection have shaped this chapter of my life into an unforgettable tale.  In parting, we acknowledge the true spirit of reciprocity and gratitude, for our dear friends have bestowed upon us gifts to share with our neighbors in our humble pueblo in Oaxaca. As we journey back to our Mexican abode, we carry these offerings as a symbol of the interconnectedness we have fostered during our time in Santa Fe. It is through the act of giving and sharing that we can create a ripple effect of kindness, extending the love we have received to those around us.

With my friend Paul White on left

As I bid adieu to this remarkable city, I am reminded that it is the people and the relationships we cultivate that truly make a place feel like home. Santa Fe will forever hold a special place in my heart, and I carry with me the lessons learned and the love shared as I embark on the next chapter of my fairytale life.

Fill The Cup

At our home in San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, Mexico, good energy perceptibly rises during our Sunday art sessions. Our neighbors come at 3 PM, and when the group disperses to go home after a couple hours, it feel as if happiness has risen to fill the cup to overflowing. 

We have been offering free art workshops at our home in Mexico for 2 years now. The group is usually 7 children and one adult. The number goes up and down around that core.

Amy and I must prepare ahead so that when class begins everything is ready. That includes the project with materials, with refreshments to serve. It is our service to our immediate community⏤neighbors. 

Yesterday three girls showed up unexpectedly and asked if they could bake cookies with Amy. She agreed and they made peanut butter cookies. A real treat . . . considering the kids do not have an oven at home. 

The pictures here are from recent sessions.

Touch of Light

 It is one thing to photograph people. It is another to make others care about them by revealing the core of their humanness. - Paul Strand

When I go to events in Oaxaca, Mexico, I go camera in hand, ready for surprise and hoping to get some pictures that are more than superficial. Over the years during many travels at home and abroad, the camera has become an extension of myself, a kind of third eye. What interests me most is humanity. After that, it is landscapes. 

The last two weeks in Oaxaca have been special for Oaxacans. This week has been Semana Santa, Holy Week, culminating in  Easter Sunday. Catholicism is by far the most practiced religion in Mexico. The celebrations bring people together in great reverence, worship and unity. 

Enjoy these images I took during the last two weekends.

To photo people, I have to be brave enough to enter their space. Yet, my heart goes before me and I go in peace. If I am in the “zone,” I am nothing . . . a gentle breeze or touch of light—for I am one with the person I see.

An Unexpected Place

Final Voyage, oil on linen, 30 x 48 inches

My most recent painting had a surprising genesis. Amy and I were at a special museum exhibit in Oaxaca featuring art celebrating Xoloitzcuintle dogs. We own one. “Xoloitzcuintles are national treasures in Mexico, with a history that goes back at least 3,000 years. Mentions of these “strange hairless dogs” appear in the journals of Cortez and other European explorers. Ancient Aztecs named the breed for their dog-headed god Xolotl. Xolos were considered sacred by the Aztecs and often were sacrificed and buried alongside their owners to serve as protective guides to the next world. In modern times, Xolos are dedicated watchdogs and companions.” _AKC.org.
At one time Xolos were almost extinct, now resurrected they are celebrated. Ancestors of today’s Mexicans held the dog in high regard and today it is the dog most representative of Mexico.

In art, “happy accidents” are gifts. Like a lightning bolt, pure inspiration suddenly comes from an unexpected place. Many times I have labored on art with good intentions only to find I don’t like the outcome. Perhaps it lacks spontaneity, freshness . . . and so I strike out what I have done. Then something new appears in that destruction. A new direction and vision occurs.

At the exhibition, among the paintings, drawings and sculptures, I found myself in front of a glass case. Inside, a bronze sculpture of a boat, holding only an erect Xolo at the bow, showing the way. That moment I got an idea for a painting. I could make another of my “Memento Mori” pieces, commemorating the inevitability of death and passage between worlds.

At home I began gathering together ideas and decided death would row a boat with a casket while a Xolo sat atop, amidst flowers. I would call the work “Final Voyage.” The lake is set among mountains. The mood is somber but a light shows through the clouds, illuminating the waters. The course is set, the journey begun, with our Xolo guide present showing the way.

First study

Detail