Testament to Magic

On Sundays we offer free art sessions including materials and refreshments to our neighbor children in San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, Mexico. The projects have been ongoing for three years now and at times we have struggled to come up with new ideas. The kids delight in creating something and taking their artwork home. At times we have given them crafts to paint and embellish. Our latest effort is finishing an alebrije. Mexican Alebrije´s are hand carved wooden sculpture of fantastical (fantasy/mythical) creatures that are brightly colored with designs.

Two alebrijes  from our collection by the Jimenez family 

Last Friday Amy and I went with a new found American friend who lives in our village and drove an hour to Ocatlán, a bigger town nearby Oaxaca. Ocatlán's Friday market is a tapestry of culture, offering everything from fresh fruits and vegetables to handcrafted textiles, arts & crafts, and livestock for sale or barter. Our quest on this particular Friday was to delve into the world of alebrijes, the whimsical, fantastical creatures carved from wood that have become emblematic of Mexican folk art. We sought hand carved, unpainted alebrijes that local craftspeople make and sell. We wanted unfinished ones for our children to paint. Unpainted and awaiting transformation, the wooden canvases held the potential for magic. Bees, turtles, dogs, and rabbits awaited their metamorphosis into alebrijes. Our friend had told us we must arrive early because items sell out fast. By 7:30 AM we had a collection of carvings from several artisans.

Jo, buying a rabbit (conejo)

Family of carvers

The market is a thrill so we browsed, then went to an early lunch at a nearby livestock bazaar where locals sat under tents eating traditional fare.

With our newly acquired treasures in tow, we eagerly returned home to share the enchantment on Sunday with our neighbor children. Our plan was simple yet filled with creativity and joy – we would guide the children in painting these wooden creatures, infusing them with magical colors that would bring them to life to be transformed into true alebrijes.

Unpainted carvings

Sunday the children dipped their brushes into a palette of vivid colors, unleashing their imagination onto the wooden canvases. Laughter echoed through the air as wooden bees, turtles, dogs, and rabbits were transformed into vibrant, fantastical beings. Each stroke of the brush was a step closer to the creation of their unique masterpiece, a testament to the rich cultural heritage and artistic spirit of Oaxaca.

The experience was not merely about creating art but about fostering a connection between generations and communities. Through the shared act of painting, we bridged gaps and transcended language barriers, creating bonds that extended beyond the vibrant hues of the alebrijes.

Our collection of painted alebrijes stands as a testament to the magic that can unfold in the heart of a Mexican village. The true beauty of a journey lies not only in the destination but in the vibrant tapestry of experiences woven along the way.

Opportunities Given

It hurt. Children we host at our home outside Oaxaca, Mexico, on Sundays for art lessons stole two keys from our door locks. We don’t know for sure who took them. Last Sunday at the end of the session the keys were missing. Amy and I were aghast. Everybody denied knowing what happened before one of the keys was found under a tree. Mysteriously.

I had misgivings about allowing any of the youth in our house. It is far too grand. They begged, Amy took them in, and for awhile it was okay. Amy had group baking sessions, (an oven is at our home) the bathroom was available, children went through the front door and out the back to play in the yard. Now that has changed. We will allow only one person at a time to come inside to use the bathroom, and an adult must be nearby.

Basically, there are two groups. A mother, Remedios, comes with her daughter, son, and sons best friend⏤all talented, bright and highly courteous. Another group, all girls, come from the neighbors above us that have many problems. We love them and have had  good relationships so far. The theft came as a surprise and blow. Certainly we knew in advance that the children are coming from highly difficult circumstances. Two are almost homeless. Another did not go to school, and then changed her mind and is attending. The homes are impoverished and they see bad things.

Amy and I teach free art classes once a week, on Sunday afternoons. We provide all the materials, arrange projects, serve refreshments, and host at the front patio at our home, which is safe clean and enjoyable. We do all this as service to our neighbors who do not have such opportunities given to them.
Today, Sunday, soon we will begin our session with a talk. Not to shame anyone but to say our feelings have been hurt and respect is necessary to go on. We love everyone and are happy to continue serving. There must be mutual respect. Of course, we know it is one or two kids that acted impulsively without regard . . . this should not cause everyone else to suffer.  

(Picture at top: cups made of painted gourds)

Cup Runneth Over

As the saying goes, “the cup runneth over.” When children arrive to our home on Sundays for art projects it is high energy in our otherwise mostly tranquil setting. They are excited before they arrive. Girls sit together and two boys are side by side, with a mother and sister at their table. The happiness level goes up even more once materials are taken up and projects begun.

Recently we have been working on making an alebrije; a magical creature of wood painted imaginatively in bright colors. On our recent trip to the the USA, Amy found wooden grasshoppers at a second hand store. There were many of them in boxes. “Hey, these would be great for our childrens classes!” she said. They come with a stick that makes a cricket sound when rubbed against the ridges at the bottom. We bought a bunch and brought them back to Oaxaca. The children have been painting them.

We allow limited entry in our house, mostly to clean up, use the toilet or head to the backyard. The kids are highly curious of our home since it is luxurious. Their eyes get big and mouths drop open. They are amazed we have two bathrooms, and hot water. Often the girls beg to stay when it is time to leave. 

There is a big tree in our backyard and when class ends the two boys jump up and run to it. The girls follow and before long all are swinging from limbs and laughing hard tumbling on the grassy earth.

Next project will be painting gourds. 

Also, we will hand out and discuss booklets made by an American veterinarian who lives in Oaxaca. It is how to treat animals respectfully. They also are coloring books.

We know we are making a difference in lives here in the little pueblo of San Pedro Ixtlahuaca on the outskirts of Oaxaca, Mexico. And we are being transformed as well!

Side By Side

Child of Oaxaca, oil on canvas, 80x100 cm

Since moving to Mexico, Amy and I share a studio and make our art side by side. It is a happy arrangement. We listen to music and occasionally look over the shoulder of the other to see what’s happening. She has her own style and so do I. We are different in mind and background when it comes to art. Nonetheless there is plenty of common ground.

Just today we are finishing paintings. I made a large piece with a native Oaxaca girl as subject. She is someone I saw not long ago. With her sister, she was in the the town center sitting on a sidewalk, selling little drawings and sketches made with colored pencils on paper. Amy and I bought a piece from her older sister. I took photos of both of them and the younger one had a slightly forlorn look. People were walking by without slowing down. The girls were dressed very nicely. My painting is made with oil paints.

Between Snakes and Hummingbirds, acrylic on canvas, 60x90 cm

Amy is finishing her second of a three part series titled Daughters of Tonantzin. The new work is entitled, “Quinto Sol / Entre Culebras y Colibríes .“ ( Between Snakes and Hummingbirds) A tribute to the power of innocence; and the magic and majesty of the universe.

Steven Boone Artwork

Amy Cordova y Boone artwork

One Teardrop

Last night as I was meditating before bed, something unusual happened.

I am in Denver, Colorado for an art show. My hotel is quite comfortable and a block away from the festival grounds. Sitting on a couch in a dark room, I had been quieting my mind but had been thinking of various situations present in my life. One in particular has occupied my thoughts—the extreme conditions of an Egyptian family I am friends with. (See: Inshallah)

Strangely, as I sat still and upright, a teardrop formed in my right eye. Slowly my eye brimmed and the drop flowed down my cheek. I wondered where it came from.

Retracing my thoughts, I realized I had remembered Amira, the oldest daughter of Hagag. I had worked hard to collect some money for her college, which is an impossible dream for any of the five children. Amira, eighteen, is a pure soul, shy yet intelligent and strong.

The family has many pressing needs. It has been decided to use any money to help her mother with urgent eye surgery. The first installment of funds has been delivered. The family will be relieved that Edleah will have her eyesight protected. But I know too that Amira sleeps on the hard earth at the feet of her brothers and sister every night.

The tear that fell down my face was her tear, the one she would never show her family.

Died and Gone To Heaven

Occasionally I make an acquaintance and they ask me, “How many children do you have?” I always answer two, although only one is living. My oldest, Naomi died of cancer when she was nineteen, and Sarah is a young dancer. I know that one child is ahead of me, and the other behind.

I visited Naomi's grave this morning and after praying and remembering her, I took a step to leave and had the sudden realization that I would also be laid to rest before long. I thought of my body in the earth, and wondered could I be buried near Naomi? But no, that area is filled. Then I wondered, where? I do not know, especially since I am Baha'i and Baha'i law requires that a person be buried no more than one hour distance from the place of death. Since I love to travel, I cannot know where I might be when I die.

Just the realization of passing into the spiritual realm brought a surprising feeling of relief. I imagined the time of death; feeling great satisfaction of having lived fully, completed a cycle, and then entering a vast spiritual domain that has been my goal all along.

In a small way, I had similar feelings recently when I returned from five weeks of arduous and concentrated traveling in Egypt, Morocco and England. I had tremendous adventures, endured many discomforts as well as joys, was transfixed and dismayed, lived high and low, and in sum, felt the broad swath of life in a short time. It satisfied my wandering urges and reinvigorated my imagination, while fulfilling my soul. When I returned home, the first day felt like I had died and gone to heaven and now could start anew.

All Things Pass

Today, instead of writing much, I am sharing a picture. I took the photo at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, in Berlin, Germany. I was there this time of year, four years ago. During those days, I wandered across the city, camera in hand, prepared to meet the unexpected, and thriving on chance and surprise to fill me with awe.

The photo is mysterious, in that the angles are sharp and clear, but a blurred figure is running among the rows of concrete slabs. You the viewer do not know it, but he is pushing a baby carriage with a little child. It is strange to be at this memorial, and find people playing games there. Little children dart in and out of the rows, playing tag, and hide and seek. You can hear their laughter. They seem unaware that during the holocaust, over 11 million innocents were killed, including 1.1 million children murdered.

Underneath the stone slabs are exhibit halls that detail the slaughter of Jewish people during the reign of the Nazi’s—1933-1945.

“All things pass...Perhaps the passage of time is a kind of healing, or a kind of salvation granted equally to all people.”
― Mizuki Nomura, Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime

To see more artistic photography by Steven Boone, go to Graphixshoot

Place Of Eternal Happiness

Ah, to be innocent and full of wonder. Here are two quotes that can help us be free of prejudice:

“Whoever undertakes to set himself up as a judge of Truth and Knowledge is shipwrecked by the laughter of the gods.” Albert Einstein
“Verily I say unto you, except ye turn, and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.”  English Revised Bible, Matthew 18:3

In the first quote, I think Einstein knows full well how limited is human understanding, and how faulty can be its perception. Acknowledged as a true genius of the highest order, still, he is able to laugh at his own accomplishments. For Einstein, the more he came to know, the more he realized he did not know; and this was his entry into the kingdom of heaven, for he turned and became as the “little children”, full of wonder.

In the second quote, we are encouraged to become as little children. This does not mean to become infantile, because, we are turning to look back. Rather, it is adopting the child’s life, free of prejudice and full of wonder, awe, and gratitude, that allows us to enter into heaven, the place of eternal happiness, and remain there in a state of grace.

Division Bells

I imagine I know what a prisoner feels like when he is released from confinement and walks out into the big, bright planet as a free person. Suddenly, he acutely appreciates everything, and especially marvels that he is free to touch the world once again. The sun warms his flesh, colors are vivid and true, and he drinks deep the fresh air, relishing life as if he is born again. Now that the nineteen-day fast is over until next year, this is what I felt like yesterday, when I began my day and could eat or drink whenever I wanted. I had been a willing prisoner, but now my aim is accomplished and I have a fresh and vital perspective going forward.
I pulled into my driveway today just as a song came on the radio that held me so that I just sat and listened. It was Pink Floyd’s composition called High Hopes. It begins with the chiming of bells, which reminded me of Venice, Italy. The first stanza goes,
Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young

In a world of magnets and miracles

Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary

The ringing of the division bell had begun
It made me think. Children in their innocence see the world as if dreaming. The universe to them is whole and fluid, with moments effortlessly flowing one into the other. Imagination imbues everything with possibility. Then, the bells of rationality and discriminate thinking sound, and so the perception of the world changes. Slowly, children become less magical and more grounded in opinion. The ego develops and so do feelings of separation. People develop alliances and choose labels for themselves and others, such as; nationality, color, status, profession, sexuality, and many others.
To me, THE DREAM is the same place we lived when we were children, in a world of magnets and miracles, . . . without boundary. To stay there, is to not listen to the division bells that cut and dice the world into separate and unequal parts and makes us prisoners. It is to be, as Bob Dylan says in his song of the same name, "forever young."

May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.