HER-story:

With words and images, I am telling my story. Through art, through sculpture, I am remembering HERstory...
CASIMIRA

Saturday, November 10

irresistible


"She was so extraordinarily beautiful that I nearly laughed out loud...I fell in love with her at once.  She was like a mirage of beauty of the ages, irresistible, like a pull of gravity.  She has everything I want in a woman." - Richard Burton (1925-1984)

mixed media on paper


Friday, November 9

fruta


"Woman is like a fruit which will only yield its fragrance when rubbed by the hands. Take for example the basil: unless it be warmed by the fingers, it emits no perfume. And do you know that unless amber is warmed and manipulated it retains it's aroma within? The same with women: if you do not animate her with frolics and kisses, with nibbling of her thighs and close embraces, you will not obtain what you desire: you will experience no pleasure when she shares your couch and she will feel no affection for you." - Sir Richard Burton, circa 1886

excerpt from a delicious book my Latin Lover gifted me many moons ago

snapshot: watermelon, from a series of fruit 

Thursday, November 8

gratitude


I enjoyed introducing my children to the Peruvian master, Fernando de Szyszlo. Their paternal grandparents knew him well and my grandfather collected his early artwork.




Wednesday, November 7

te invento a veces con mi vanidad


"Tengo la convicción de que no existes
y sin embargo te oigo cada noche

te invento a veces con mi vanidad
o mi desolación o mi modorra

del infinito mar viene tu asombro
lo escucho como un salmo y pese a todo

tan convencido estoy de que no existes
que te aguardo en mi sueño para luego."

- Mario Benedetti

detail from mixed media on canvas, 2013

Tuesday, November 6

I want you to know


"Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe,
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en ese día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable.
Si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos."

- Pablo Neruda

"I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
remember 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

But 
if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine."

- Pablo Neruda
detail from mixed media on canvas, 2017

Monday, November 5

tu compañía


"¡Amor, cuántos caminos hasta llegar a un beso,
qué soledad errante hasta tu compañía!
Siguen los trenes solos rodando con la lluvia.
No amanece aún la primavera.

Pero tú y yo, amor mío, estamos juntos,
juntos desde la ropa a las raíces,
juntos de otoño, de agua, de caderas,
hasta ser sólo tú, sólo yo juntos.

Pensar que costó tantas piedras que lleva el río,
la desembocadura del agua de Boroa,
pensar que separados por trenes y naciones

tú y yo teníamos que simplemente amarnos,
con todos confundidos, con hombres y mujeres,
con la tierra que implanta y educa los claveles." - Pablo Neruda

detail from 2013 mixed media on canvas in a private collection 

Sunday, November 4

mother to a new world


"Women must remember the sacred nature of our Goddess self, the call to glory inherent in human incarnation.

We are daughters of history and mothers to a new world.

This is not the time to throw away our power. It is time to claim it, in the name of love."
- Marianne Williamson

selfie with my beloved children, from a silly, playful series taken while we waited on a plane 



Saturday, November 3

sirena


"...in 1450 a beautiful Celtic mermaid named Asenora swam ashore on the coast of Cornwall where a Benedictine monastery had recently been established. After removing her fish tail and hiding it among the rocks, she explored the area on foot and discovered the community of men. She made many clandestine visits – -

....Suspicious that Asenora was no ordinary woman but a mermaid, and greatly alarmed by her presence, the abbot of the monastery hid himself by the water and waited. He witnessed Asenora swim ashore, remove her fish tail and hide it in a niche in the cliff.

When she wandered off in the direction of the abbey, the shrewd abbot retrieved the fish tail, bundling it into his robe. He tucked it inside a secret compartment hidden under the seat of his chair, in the church. Without her tail, the poor mermaid could never go back to the sea, and soon the wildness of it drained out of her. Asenora was converted, and eventually became Saint Senara...”

excerpt from “The Mermaid Chair” a novel by Sue Monk Kidd @ 2005



Friday, November 2

ecstatic tears


"There is no spot on earth that ever became sacred until something danced there; maybe it was just an atom or two.

Strange now the seriousness I see around the shrines of perfect saints whose feet were once wept ecstatic tears as they moved upon the sun they saw beneath our every step.

There is no place in existence that ever became sacred until something sang there, even be it just a molecule. That is enough. I hear they croon all the time."

- my beloved HAFIZ

detail from a 2013 watercolor on paper in a private collection 



Thursday, November 1

dia de los muertos


"What secret are you looking for? Life will soon reveal it to you." - Frida Kahlo


Día de Todos Los Santos

Día de Los Muertos

mixed medias on paper (c. 2013) and on wood (c. 2009) 



Wednesday, October 31

halloween

- mixed media depicting dreams -
"Halloween is an ancient druidic holiday, one the Celtic peoples have celebrated for millennia. It is the crack between the last golden rays of summer and the dark of winter; the delicately balanced tweak of the year before it is given over entirely to the dark; a time for the souls of the departed to squint, to peek and perhaps to travel through the gap. What could be more thrilling and worthy of celebration than that? It is a time to celebrate sweet bounty, as the harvest is brought in. It is a time of excitement and pleasure for children before the dark sets in. We should all celebrate that." - Jenny Colgan


Tuesday, October 30

wise at last


"...I'm wild again, beguiled again.
A simpering, whimpering child again.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I...

Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep
When love came and told me, I shouldn't sleep
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

Lost my heart, but what of it
He is cold I agree
He can laugh, but I love it
Although the laugh's on me

I'll sing to him, each spring to him
And long, for the day when I'll cling to him
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

He's a fool and don't I know it
But a fool can have his charms
I'm in love and don't I show it
Like a babe in arms

Love's the same old sad sensation
Lately I've not slept a wink
Since this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink

I've sinned a lot, I'm mean a lot
But I'm like sweet seventeen a lot
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

I'll sing to him, each spring to him
And worship the trousers that cling to him
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

When he talks, he is seeking
Words to get, off his chest
Horizontally speaking, he's at his very best

Vexed again, perplexed again
Thank God, I can be oversexed again
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - am I

Wise at last, my eyes at last
Are cutting you down to your size at last
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more

Burned a lot, but learned a lot
And now you are broke, 

so you earned a lot
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more...

Romance, finis. 

Your chance, finis.
Those ants that invaded my pants, finis.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered - no more..."



- Ella Fitzgerald


Monday, October 29

my love


"...and what I am to you is not real,
what I am to you, you do not need,
what I am to you is not what you mean to me,
you give me miles and miles of mountains,
and I'll ask for the sea.

don't throw yourself like that,
in front of me.
I kissed your mouth, your back,
is that all you need?
don't drag my love around,
volcanoes melt me down.

...what I give to you is just what I'm going through,
there is nothing new, no, no just another phase of finding,
what I really need is what makes me bleed...

I kissed your mouth,
you do not need me."

- Damien Rice


the one for me

- 2007 sketch from my journals -

"Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your hand.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I am a dreamer and when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
And I still hold your hand in mine.
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bare my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow..."

- Sacha Skarbek, sung by James Blunt 





Sunday, October 28

with you


"My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the subway.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Yes, she caught my eye,
As we walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was,
Flying high.
And I don't think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a moment that will last till t
he end.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought up that I should be with you.
But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you." - James Blunt

Saturday, October 27

mother courage


"I've been through it all, baby, I'm Mother Courage."

- Elizabeth Taylor (1932-2011)

mixed media on paper


Friday, October 26

whatever pieces


"Arrange whatever pieces come your way."
- Virginia Woolf (1882-1941)

mixed media on paper


Thursday, October 25

riding the waves


"I love waves; I wish I had some in my hair. My daddy did, but I guess I didn't dive into that end of the gene pool. Virginia Woolf wrote my favorite book, The Waves, and I have a son who surfs them. I danced a thousand dances to Patti Smith's song "Wave" and I've waved a thousand good-byes. I've seen waves come and take my house, flood the same bedroom where they accompanied countless nights of lovemaking. I have ridden the waves of labor, of sorrow, and of bliss."

- Gabrielle Roth



Wednesday, October 24

despues que murmure la gente

- Frida Kahlo and Chavela Vargas, 2013 mixed media on paper -
"Tomate esta botella conmigo,
y en el ultimo trago nos vamos.


Quiero ver a que sabe tu olvido,
sin poner en mis ojos tus manos.

Esta noche no voy a rogarte,
esta noche te vas de deveras.


Que dificil tratar de olvidarte,
sin que sienta que ya no me quieras...

Nada me han enseñado los años,
siempre caigo en los mismos errores,
otra vez a brindar con extraños,
y a llorar por los mismos dolores...

Tomate esta botella conmigo,
y en el ultimo trago me besas.


Esperamos que no hayan testigos,
por si acaso te diera verguenza.


Si algun dia sin querer tropezamos,
no te agaches ni me hables de frente,
simplemente la mano nos damos,
y despues que murmure la gente..." - Chavela Vargas




Tuesday, October 23

but she had a husband


el me llamó y me contó lo siguiente:

"So I took her to the river.
I thought she wasn't married,
but she had a husband.

It was St. James' eve,
and almost as if agreed.
The streetlights went out,
the crickets went on.
At the far edge of town
I touched her sleeping breasts.
They opened to me suddenly
like fronds of hyacinth.
The starch of her petticoat
made a sound in my ears 
like a piece of silk
being ripped by ten knives.
Silver light gone from their leaves,
the trees have grown bigger,
and a horizon of dogs
barks far from the river.

Out beyond the rambles,
the hawthorns and reeds,
beneath her mane of hair
I made a hollow in the sedge.
I took off my necktie.
She took off her dress.
I, my belt and pistol.
She, four bodices.
No silken shell or spikenard
is finer than her skin,
nor did moons or mirrors
ever glow like this.
Her thighs eluded me
like startled fish,
one half filled with fire,
the other half with cold.
That night the road I ran
was the finest of them all,
without a bridle or stirrup
on a filly made of pearl.
As a man, I won't repeat
the things she said to me.
The light of understanding 
has made me more discreet.

I took her from the river
spiked with kisses and sand.
The sabers of the irises
were stabbing at the breeze.

I behaved as what I am.
A true-born gypsy.
I gave her a sewing basket 
made of straw-gold satin,
and refused to fall in love
because she had a husband,
though she said she wasn't married
when I took her to the river."

- Federico Garcia Lorca




Monday, October 22

con luna de tu frente


"Nadie comprendía el perfume
de la oscura magnolia de tu vientre.
Nadie sabía que martirizabas
un colibrí de amor entre los dientes.
Mil caballitos persas se dormían
en la plaza con luna de tu frente,
mientras que yo enlazaba cuatro noches
tu cintura, enemiga de la nieve.
Entre yeso y jazmines, tu mirada
era un pálido ramo de simientes.
Yo busqué, para darte, por mi pecho
las letras de marfil que dicen siempre,
siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia,
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte."
- Federico Garcia Lorca

"Nobody understood the perfume
of the dark magnolia of your belly.
Nobody knew how you martyred
the hummingbird of love between your teeth.
A thousand tiny Persian horses slept
in the plaza in the light of your forehead’s moon
while I for four nights laced myself
to your waist, the enemy of snow.
Between plaster and jasmine, your gaze
is a pale and seeding branch.
I searched through my chest to give to you
the ivory letters that say forever,
forever, forever: Garden of my agony,
your body fleeing from me forever,
the blood of your veins now in my mouth,
your mouth already lightless for my death."
- translation by Niina Pollari

2006 or 2007 carved wood block 

Sunday, October 21

misterio


"Hay almas que tienen
azules luceros,
mañanas marchitas
entre hojas del tiempo,
y castos rincones
que guardan un viejo
rumor de nostalgias
y sueños.
Otras almas tienen
dolientes espectros
de pasiones. Frutas
con gusanos. Ecos
de una voz quemada
que viene de lejos
como una corriente
de sombra. Recuerdos
vacíos de llanto
y migajas de besos.
Mi alma está madura
hace mucho tiempo,
y se desmorona
turbia de misterio.
Piedras juveniles
roídas de ensueño
caen sobre las aguas
de mis pensamientos.
Cada piedra dice:
“¡Dios está muy lejos!”
Federico García Lorca (1898-1936)

Saturday, October 20

luz


¿Eva era rubia? No. Con negros ojos
vio la manzana del jardín: con labios
rojos probó su miel; con labios rojos
que saben hoy más ciencia que los sabios.

Venus tuvo el azur en sus pupilas,
pero su hijo no. Negros y fieros,
encienden a las tórtolas tranquilas
los dos ojos de Eros.

Los ojos de las reinas fabulosas,
de las reinas magníficas y fuertes,
tenían las pupilas tenebrosas
que daban los amores y las muertes.

Pentesilea, reina de amazonas;
Judith, espada y fuerza de Betulia;
Cleopatra, encantadora de coronas,
la luz tuvieron de tus ojos, Julia.

La negra, que es más luz que la luz blanca
del sol, y las azules de los cielos.
Luz que el más rojo resplandor arranca
al diamante terrible de los celos.

Luz negra, luz divina, luz que alegra
la luz meridional, luz de las niñas,
de las grandes ojeras, ¡oh luz negra
que hace cantar a Pan bajo las viñas!

- Rubén Darío (1867-1916)


Friday, October 19

como la tierra al sol


"Cada vez que te beso me sabe a poco.
Cada vez que te tengo me vuelvo loco.
Y cada vez, cuando te miro, cada vez,
encuentro una razón para seguir viviendo.
Y cada vez, cuando te miro, cada vez,
es como descubrir el universo.

Te quiero, te quiero
y eres el centro de mi corazón.
Te quiero, te quiero
como la tierra al sol.

Cada vez que la noche llega a tu pelo
de cada estrella blanca yo siento celos.
Y cada vez, cuando amanece, cada vez,
me siento un poco más, de tu mirada preso.
Y cada vez, entre tus brazos, cada vez,
despierta una canción y nace un beso.

Te quiero, te quiero
y eres el centro de mi corazón.
Te quiero, te quiero
como la tierra al sol."

-  José Luis Perales


Thursday, October 18

esos que ennoblecen


"Para que nunca haya malentendidos
para que nada se interponga
voy a explicarte lo que mi amor convoca

tus ojos que se caen de desconcierto
y otras veces se alzan penetrantes y tibios
tienen tanta importancia que yo mismo me asombro

tus lindas manos mágicas
que te expresan a veces mejor que las palabras
tan importantes son que no oso tocarlas

y si un día las toco es solamente
para retransmitirte ciertas claves

tu cuerpo pendular
que duda en recibirse o entregarse
y es tan joven que enseña a pesar tuyo
es un dato del cual me faltan datos
y sin embargo ayudo a conocerlo

tus labios puestos en el entusiasmo
que dibuja palabras y promete promesas
son en tu imagen para mí los héroes
y son también el ángel enemigo

en mi amor estás toda o casi toda
me faltan cifras pero las calculo
faltan indicios pero los descubro

sin embargo en mi amor hay otras cosas
por ejemplo los sueños con que muevo la tierra
la pobre lucha que libré y libramos
los buenos odios esos que ennoblecen
el diálogo constante con mi gente
la pregunta punzante que me hicieron
las respuestas veraces que no di

en mi amor hay también corajes varios
y un miedo que a menudo los resume
hay hombres como yo que miran tras las rejas
a una muchacha que podrías ser vos

en mi amor hay faena y hay descanso
sencillas recompensas y complejos castigos
hay dos o tres mujeres que forman tu prehistoria
y hay muchos años demasiados años
de inventar alegrías y creerlas
después a pie juntillas

querría que en mi amor vieras todo eso
y que vos muchachita
con paciencia y cautela
sin herirme ni herirte
rescataras de allí la luna el río
los emblemas rituales
los proyectos de besos o de adioses
el corazón que aguarda pese a todo."



- Mario Benedetti 



Wednesday, October 17

corazones invencibles


"Hoy tu cara me lo dice todo,

En silencio me hablas de algún modo...

Algo no te deja ser feliz.

Sé, la vida no es cuento de hadas,

Y vamos de la fe a la nada,
Tratando de sobrevivir.
No hay difícil camino,
Cuando estamos juntos tú y yo,
Si vas en caída libre,
Y te sientes derrotada,
Yo me entregaré del alma,
Para curar tu dolor.
No te dejaré rendirte,
Yo te sanaré las alas,
Corazones invencibles,
Por la fuerza del amor...
Hoy te pido no pierdas confianza,
Aunque sientas que la luz se apaga,
Aquí yo sigo junto a ti,
Si nos lleva el destino,
Lo mejor está por venir...
Hoy te pido ya no tengas miedo,
Que yo me quedo junto a ti..."
Aleks Syntek

Tuesday, October 16

my birthday


"When a woman is twenty, a child deforms her; when she is thirty, (s)he preserves her; and when forty, (s)he makes her young again."
- Leon Blum

breastfeeding in my mid-forties...

motherhood is making me young again...

motherhood is my fountain of youth...

gratitude for another year of life...

a recent filtered feline selfie with my fiercely feminine little goddess