The Pacific Ocean is not far away from us here in Oaxaca, Mexico. About 125 miles. Yet we have not visited often since arriving four years ago. The reason has been that the old highway to the coast led us around the city and then over the Sierra Madre Mountains on a harrowing two lane road that could make a person sick from the twists and turns. About a seven hour trek.
Everything is different now that the long anticipated and awaited highway 175, a sleek asphalt “autopista” is newly opened.
With a desire for adventure and a celebration on the horizon, my beloved wife Amy and I embarked on our journey to Puerto Escondido, a coastal gem on the Pacific shores. However, this time, the route took an exciting twist as we drove the new highway, cutting our travel time in half. Gone were the days of perilous journeys over the Sierra Madre Mountains, with their treacherously winding paths. Instead, we found ourselves cruising along the smooth asphalt of the new highway, marveling at the picturesque landscapes unfolding before us. The reduced travel time not only ensured a safer passage but also allowed us to immerse ourselves in the beauty of our surroundings without the constant worry of hazardous roads.
After a seamless journey, we arrived at our coastal haven in Mazunte: Casa Ofelia. The small but famous town attracts a diverse crowd that includes hippies, yogis, spiritual seekers, and those interested in animal conservation. It's laid-back atmosphere, eco-friendly practices, and focus on yoga, turtle conservation, and spiritual activities make it a popular destination for alternative travelers. Bohemian vibes abound, which is fine for Amy and I⏤both former hippies. We enjoyed people watching: men with tanned, muscular builds, beards and “man Buns”; that is long hair tied up in a bun atop the head. Women sauntered scantily dressed. Many go topless on the beach.
Greeted by the salty breeze and the rhythmic sounds of the ocean waves just outside our bedroom door, our accommodation in Mazunte provided perfect sanctuary, offering a tranquil escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. We stayed three days then headed back to Puerto Escondido for two nights.
In Puerto Escondido we lodged at Hotel Santa Fe, namesake of our former hometown. It offers a mix of colonial elegance and modern amenities. Furthermore, it is set directly opposite Zicatela beach, providing guests with sweeping beach views and stunning sunsets.
As the sun dipped below the horizon on the final night of our retreat, we gathered to commemorate a special occasion—the 71st birthday of my beloved Amy. With laughter, love, and gratitude in our hearts, we raised a toast to our togetherness and the adventures yet to come.
Our getaway to the coast was more than just a journey—it was a testament to the joy of exploration, the importance of cherished moments, and the power of love. As we bid farewell to the coastal paradise, we carried home to Oaxaca with us memories for our lifetime, forever etched in the sands of time.
It all started with a
bizarre thought that came to my mind many years ago in 1993. A couple of faces
hanging from a clothesline like laundry hung to dry. I had no idea
where the mental picture came from or why it arrived in the moment. I was
driving on a lonely road on the way home from working at my art
gallery. Another odd thought arrived on its heels;
that I must paint it.
The painting I made
promptly exhibited and sold. It was all so curious that more were
created. Most arrived in the span of a few years. During
twenty years over thirty paintings came. Many sold, but they were on
the verge of madness and often took quite long to be bought—if at
all. I remember having a show at my gallery, called Hangups.
The entire
front room was filled with them.
A young woman worked for me and had
an uneven temperament. She could drink heavily at times but was quite
brilliant. The show lasted for two weeks and she worked at a desk in
the same room. The day the paintings came down and were replaced with
landscapes, she almost cried tears of relief. I was surprised, and to
this day remember her reaction. They are not easy paintings . . . I had to quit at one point because I was becoming mentally
unbalanced. I discontinued showing them but made a collection.
The
last time I made one was over six years ago. This year, with the
election heating up here in America, and the two candidates, Donald
Trump and Hillary Clinton seeming to be ubiquitous and constantly in
the news, I ventured to make another Hangup painting with the two of
them. Now that it is done, as people see it they laugh. It breaks the
serious fighting that has been part of the issue of these presidential elections . . and casts the whole matter in a humorous if not
morbid light.
I am sure some
people will not find the new painting funny. That has been true all along. The paintings cause reactions—either you laugh or get mad.
Despite every
effort, when a famine spread throughout the land, a man and his wife
succumbed to starvation. First the man. His wife loved him so dearly
that she hastened in his footsteps. Then they were together again
happier than ever. They were skeletons—just bones with no meat, but
looked as beautiful as ever to each other.
One day they went
to sit by their favorite piece of art . . . an immense painting of a
young woman naked and gazing up into the heavens, in front of two
young musicians playing flutes. They were in good spirits and
laughed, joking about their former life and how hungry they had been.
The woman put on a baking apron, a bakers cap, and took a guitar out
and began to play and sing. The man had a bakers apron on and found
an immense basket full of bread loaves that he put on his lap as he
sat next to his wife. He had his bakers hat on too and sang along
gleefully.
An angel heard the
singing and arrived to see what all the merry-making was about. She
hovered above the couple, and when they looked up and saw her, they
both stopped singing. The man spoke and said, “Do you know that you
are naked?” The angel smiled and replied, “I am not naked. It is
you two that are naked . . . you have not an ounce of flesh on your
bones!” At that, the husband grinned at his wife and both of them
broke out laughing. The woman began playing her guitar again and both
sang together in such perfect melodies that the naked angel soared in
circles around their heads, twinkling her toes and smiling from ear
to ear.
At unexpected moments lately, when I am
tired or have complaint, a gentle breeze will waft through my being
causing me to pause and be thankful. I wonder where this gift comes
from and perhaps it is because I am growing older that an inner
perspective and appreciation of life's fluidity has arrived.
For
instance, I might be hot and bothered about cleaning my studio, which
takes time away from creativity and is messy drudgery. As I carry
smelly garbage bags to the trash bins outdoors, I find myself tired
and complaining, and then, in a moment, something comes over me and I
laugh about it and take notice of the fresh air outdoors, the light
that plays everywhere around me, and maybe I hear a bird call. In an instant, it is as
if I am cured from a morose malady and leave the prison of self and enter the gates of heaven.
