Day of the Dead

Day of the Dead was never celebrated in my house.  We weren't Mexican, we couldn't speak Spanish, or have anything to do with Mexico.  But we weren't American either.  It was very confusing. 
Now though it's better, Frida Kahlo found me and I found her.  I'm gaining back my culture, history and language.  (just don't ask me to translate anything, hehe).
So here is my tribute to Day of the Dead, just a couple of cards, hope you like em.

Invisible Girl

This is the picture I have on my business cards and my facebook account. 
Yep, it's me when I was about 3 yrs old.  People ask, "Oh is that your little girl?"  and I say, "No, I didn't have any girls, so I had to put myself on my card."  Then they usually say, "Oh, that's nice."
The truth is; that little girl in the photo is the one who shows up in my studio and makes the artwork, she's the one who watches Ghost Hunters (on wednesdays on the Syfy channel), eats too many cookies and can't find her shoes.  But she's also the one who practices being invisible, turns pale when she's scared and won't eat anything all day if she's nervous.
I remember when this picture was taken.  I was at my Aunt's house, I was being invisible under the breakfast-bar.  (I found out very early that if you weren't seen or heard, you would be safer.  If you ran around or sang or yelled, it was bad.)  So I was under the breakfast-bar and my cousin Luigi walked past me, (I saw his legs) stopped, backed up, knelt down and looked me in the eye. (I didn't say a word, just waited to see what would happen to me). He smiled, picked me up, stood me on a chair, took my picture and put me back in my hiding spot. I think he took my picture as a way of saying, "I see you and it's okay."
Most people look at my artwork don't "get it" but there are those that are touched by it.  It's just like when I was little, most of the time I'm invisible but once in a while I'm seen.

Lizard in my Shoe

I have a pair of blue tennis shoes, I wore them when we went to the trail.  I crossed all the creeks by walking straight through and not trying to cross on the wobbly rocks.  When we got home I put them in the backyard to dry.  I could see them on the patio when I washed the dishes from my kitchen window.  I noticed there was a little lizard on them one day.  I saw him the next day, and the next and the next.  Seems he needed a home and moved into my shoes.  Now I can't move the shoes or throw them away or use them, the little lizard has laid claim to them.  It's kinda sad, it reminds me of God.  This lizard doesn't know these are shoes, he thinks he's found a home, a home to stay warm in and dry in, a place to hide from the rain.    I bet he feels safe and lucky.  The little lizard has faith that my shoes will always be there, he doesn't know I exist, if I took the shoes away he wouldn't understand why, it would just be a tragedy in his little life.  So I kinda feel like god, the lizard has faith and I have to protect his home. 

My First Blog Post

Wow, my first blog post, what do I write?  Should it be personal, or politically correct?  Should I cuss? Or not?  Why blog at all?  Blah.Blah.Blah.  Well here goes...........
I like making art, right now it's altered art, meaning I take something I find at a yard sale or thrift store and give it a different life, a different meaning, I change it's destiny.   Let's say I find a small chair, some decorative thing that's been abandoned and has ended up on the shelves at the local Goodwill with a $1.18 price tag on it.  I pass by and I notice it, as I pick it up and look at it, it speaks to me.  Yes, really speaks and no I haven't told a doctor about this.  It says, "I want to be something more, I want to have meaning."  So I say ok, I'll try.........  That's how it begins, and how it ends a week or two later is a new life, a new creation.  The chair looks happy, and I've helped the Universe to create, so I'm happy too.   Then the little chair is packed up and taken to the latest art faire I'm in.  At the art faire, the chair is placed with the other creations on my tables and we watch the people pass by.  Some people are nice and say how much they love the little chair, others are mean, they roll their eyes and walk away.  I tell the chair it's okay, you didn't want to go home with them anyway. Then that one person passes by, sees the chair and stops!  This person and the little chair make a connection, I can see it in their eyes.  So a price is settled on, paid, and I wrap up the little chair in tissue, and before I place her in the bag I say "goodbye", and then she's gone on to her new destiny.  I'm happy for the chair, but sad too. (and that's all I I have to say about that).