Come to the David Lawrence Convention Center tomorrow Dec 7th from 11am-7pm for the Handmade Arcade! It’s the biggest market of the year for handmade goods, and you don’t want to miss it. I’ll be tabling with the Monalloh Foundry crew – Maggie Negrete, Steph Neary, and Brian DiSanto. Guess what? It’s the holidays! Buy stuff!

Complete set of 8 “drinks on me” coasters – $35

Handmade Arcade  is coming up on December 7th at the David Lawrence Convention Center, and you can find me there with fellow artists Maggie Negrete, Steph Neary, and Brian DiSanto. We’ll be selling you stuff for the holidays and for your life in general. Don’t miss it, because it’s Pittsburgh’s biggest independent crafts fair of the year!

I’ll be peddling zines, prints, coasters, jewelry, and other housewares. The coasters are a new thing for me, and feature illustrations of drunk people laser-etched onto baltic birch, secured with a cork backing. They make great gifts for family, coworkers, and friends!

My lecture at the first 2013 Artist’s Meetup at Assemble went great! I discussed artist residency programs, my personal experience (the good, the bad, and the ugly), and about the art of Oaxacan woodcarving. It was well-attended – a good number of Carnegie Mellon University’s senior studio students and other friends of mine. The wonderful Jess Heberle organizes this event, and facilitates guest speakers and good conversation between local artists. I do wish there had been more conversation and questions at the end, but those who had specific questions about Oaxaca or residencies asked me as the rest of the crowd dispersed.

Even now, a month after coming back to Pittsburgh, I am still thinking back on my experiences in Oaxaca. It was a saturated experience that I still can’t quite enunciate to others easily. I have to tackle this by chipping away at it like a block of wood – eliminate all the unnecessary elements to reveal the hidden form.

In the meantime, here are some new illustrations – graphite portraits of notable people in the woodcarving communities that I met while in Oaxaca.

It’s been a whole week since my last post, and – no surprise – a lot has gone down since then.

First thing’s first – my class at the studio of Jacobo and Maria Angeles Ojeda in San Martin Tilcajete has been great. Originally, I only planned on taking a week-long course. After the third day of class this week, I realized that I wanted to take another week of the course. So that’s my plan next week!

On the first day, it took me a while to get to the village. I didn’t know where to catch a colectivo, so I went to the default Mercado de Abastos (the lovely place where my wallet was stolen) and caught a cab there. The driver ended up missing my stop, so I had to take a mototaxi (a little three-wheeled vehicle that takes you shorter distances in the outlying villages) to the center of San Martin. I arrived a bit late to class, but I was greeted warmly by Maria Angeles and Francisco – a tour guide and business-y dude who works for the studio. They introduced me to Raymundo Fabian Melchor, my teacher. I recognized him from the last Thursday that Marty, Lazaro and I visited the studio. He is one of the few master carvers that works at the studio, and produces most of the work that is exhibited and sold there. He’s a young dude, probably in his lower thirties (I felt rude asking!), and he has a lot of energy and enthusiasm for his craft. He has been woodcarving since he was a child, as all of his family are artisans. It is instinctual for him. His uncle, Agustin, is another master carver. They work next to each other in the carving area, each man equipped with his own tree stump and small cabinet for tools. Raymundo usually works on larger commission pieces, whereas Agustin produces the staple figures, such as fish, quails, dogs, etc.

When I arrived, Ray grabbed me a trunk and set me up across from him and Agustin. He then asked me to choose a figure from one of the hundreds that was set out to dry on the shelves on the wall of the studio. I ended up choosing an owl – it seemed easy enough. Ray then picked out an appropriate piece of copal wood, and I was given the task of removing the bark with a machete. I had brought my machete with me to be sharpened (which Freddy, an awesome 18-year old kid who works with the family, did for me on a grinding wheel). I ended up using a smaller machete because it was lighter for me, and because the piece of wood I was using was relatively small. I swung away at the wood wildly, getting almost nowhere. Ray noticed that I was having some difficulty, so he showed me how to properly use the machete. In order to get the bark off, it’s easier to angle the blade of the machete almost parallel to the surface of the wood. That way, the blade is able to penetrate the bark, and also lift larger pieces of it off of the wood. Doing it this way proved a lot easier for me. Still, in the process of using the machete, I scraped off a good chunk of skin from my index finger and my middle finger from the friction of the handle. Wood is fucking hard, even wet copal, which is considered softer than most.

After the bark was removed, Ray took a Sharpie and drew a rough outline of the owl. The owl that I chose was just in a standing position with its wings held close to its body, so it was relatively symmetrical. I was told to then to basically “cut to the lines,” meaning to remove all the unnecessary wood to reveal the rough figure. I used the machete for this step as well, hacking away in a triangular fashion. Because of the way the wood behaves, the only way to remove big chunks is gradually, through angled cuts that look like a triangle. Otherwise, you won’t get anywhere, regardless of how much brute strength you have.

Once this was done, I started in with a gurbia or chisel. I used a 1/2 inch wide chisel and beat it with a hammer to take out smaller, more rectangular chunks of wood. The chisels are quite handy for removing wood that is in between the legs of the figure, tight angles (for instance, where the head meets the body, where the feet meet the body), and for marking out detail (for instance, feathers on wings). I was getting so enraptured in the process, that I didn’t realize it was 2:45 until the boys were called to each lunch! They kindly invited me to join them, but I had to get back to Arquetopia to eat an Angela meal.

Little did I know, it takes about an hour and a half to get back to Oaxaca from San Martin Tilcajete. I waited for an eternity for a colectivo that wasn’t already full, or going the opposite direction. Eventually, I caught one and made it home over an hour late for lunch. Luckly, I was still served, and it was delicious. I hadn’t eaten anything since 8 am.

Day 2: I now know where the colectivos depart from the center of Oaxaca to San Martin Tilcajete, and boy does it beat wandering around frantically in Abastos, desperately searching out a taxi that reads “Ocotlan” (the final destination on the route to San Martin. I got in a taxi with a nice man who had Jesus figurines on the dashboard and a rosary draped over his rear-view mirror. Unlike most other colectivo drivers, this man didn’t even try to pick up other passengers besides me. Usually, colectivos will drive around or wait in heavy traffic to pick up 5 people to fill the cab – two passengers in front, three in back. This way, they make more money. I was the only person in the cab, and I was still only charged 15 pesos, which I’ve only paid when I’m one of 5 people shoved into the car. Turns out, this driver lives in San Martin Tilcajete, right near the studio where I’m taking classes. He offered to drop me off there, and sure enough, it was only a couple streets over. Nice guy.

My second day of carving proved to be a bit more challenging than the first, due in part to my injured hand. The bandaids kept peeling off from the friction of the knife and chisel blades, and so I was very distracted. My progress was slow. I managed to carve out the neck and some of the face, and also start on the ears, but other than that, not much was accomplished. There were several tour groups that came through the studio, and one was from Chicago. What a coincidence! As they were coming through, the tour guides would always say that I was here learning the technique from Ray, the master carver, sometimes joking that when my work was finished, they would use it for kindling. Ha ha ha. Very funny.

Truly, though, I have been treated very kindly at the studio. Despite my lack of experience, Ray is very patient with me and seems to enjoy teaching me. His teaching style is very hands-on, and while he does help me with more difficult cuts, he lets me do most of the work on my own. It takes me 10 times longer to cut anything than it does for him, but still… I make some strides.

Third day, I was feeling much better. Andreja lent me some antiseptic cream and a cloth bandage to better protect my gaping wound. I was able to fully concentrate on working, making significant progress on my owl. I was using the smaller, highly-sharpened modified kitchen knives, and by the end of class, I was getting much better at it. At first, it was nearly impossible to make any cuts in the wood, because after each day, the surface of the piece dries out a little bit. I’ve been keeping it in a plastic bag to keep it moist, but the superficial layer usually dries out slightly over time. Once this layer is removed, it is easier to cut the wood. Agustin noticed I was struggling with the knife, only managing to make little lateral cuts that looked sloppy and bad. He showed me how he holds the knife, and how you must follow through on your strokes, this way, making wider, more effective cuts. Freddy compared it to playing a violin. This metaphor stuck with me, not because I play violin, but because it was something memorable that I could hold on to when I wasn’t sure how to approach the wood. Another thing you must keep in mind when carving, is the direction of the grain. If you are cutting against the grain, then you won’t get anywhere, and you’ll likely end up hurting yourself or the knife because of the resistance of the wood. However, if you are aware of the grain of the wood, then it’s like peeling a potato. If you’re handling the tools correctly, you can carve elegant curved forms in only a few strokes.

I have been feeling incredibly lonely as soon as it gets dark out and I’m at home. I’ve been painting, drawing, etc, but sometimes I just crave the company of others. I love walking around the city and absorbing the vibrant nightlife, but I’m a little too scared to do it alone. By a stroke of luck, I randomly met two Mexican dudes on the street. I was just coming home from the art store with some canvasses in tow, when they asked me if I spoke English (in English). I said yes, and they then showed me a little book of poetry that a friend gave to them. It read something along the lines of “Mesh-Up… Poems from St. Croix by Marty.” Marty Campbell is the older resident at Arquetopia, and he had met these two fellows, Oscar and Lalo, at an English-Spanish intercambio at the library. I was thrilled at this coincidence, and we looked through the poems. Many of them were written in Caribbean dialect, which is difficult for even a native English speaker to decipher unless he/she is reading the verses aloud. We did this right on that busy street corner, sounding out Caribbean English and having a fun time. When we parted ways, we made plans to meet the next day at 6:30 pm in front of Santo Domingo to hang out.

Wednesday night, I met up with the boys, and we went to various mezcalerias to take free shots of mezcal. Then we visited the Casa de la Ciudad/Biblioteca Andres Henestrosa to see some art exhibits. This library houses the large collection of Andres Henestrosa – a Oaxacan writer, poet, and political activist who helped to transcribe the Zapotec language into phonetic Spanish, enabling these ancient texts to be understood and studied by Spanish speakers. There are countless art books and other wonderful things in this library, and I definitely plan on returning.

After this, we headed to a crowded bar with a pretty young crowd called “Desestresse,” and we had a beer. Lalo doesn’t drink, so just me and Oscar had one. Lalo speaks 6 languages and works at the Office of Tourism in Oaxaca. Oscar works as a psychologist for the government, and he speaks relatively good English. We were mostly chatting in Spanish, which was great practice for me. After a while, Oscar had to go because he had work early the next day. Lalo and I headed to a bar that he likes to visit for its salsa dancing. The place looked like a converted parking garage. The DJ played a variety of tunes, everything from bachata, cumbia, banda, merengue, and salsa, and for a while, we just sat there on the outskirts watching the people dance. I felt a strong sensation come over me. Looking at all of the couples moving their hips in the most sensual way, completely in tune with each other, smiling and laughing, man hands inching down towards ample girl butts, I missed Andres. Being surrounded by that erotic attraction reminded me of how starved I am for the physical affection of my man, my lover, my best friend. I was focusing in on one couple in particular – a chunky, tall dude in a tight polo shirt, and an Amazonian, voluptuous woman. They were the first ones to start dancing, and the last ones to stop, all the while, twirling and swaying to the beat. They seemed so incredibly happy and at peace. It was as if they were one entity, a gyrating, pulsating love organism. I was sad and overjoyed at the same time thinking about the person I share that intimate bond with.

After Lalo showed me some moves, we said goodbye and I got back to my house. I was so happy I was able to have a normal, fun night without being hit on or molested by guys. Maybe I can actually have friends here and go out and do things with them at night!

Fourth day of class, I worked mostly on the face and feathers of my little buho (owl). The feathers were easier than I expected. Ray showed me how he marks detail with a small knife, cutting long, thin triangular lines into the wood, then going in with the formon (a sharper chisel that does not require a hammer) to define the curvature of the feathers. They turned out surprisingly well for a beginner, and even Ray was impressed!

Fifth day, I finally met Jacobo, husband of Maria Angeles, who had been in LA for an exhibit of his work. He drove in a big U-Haul truck and he said that the caddy was full when he left. I peeked in and it was more than half empty! He sold a ton of work and had a successful trip. He was very kind and welcoming to me, and even offered me some breakfast. I haven’t been eating that much (basically just one large meal per day at 4:30 pm), so I happily accepted. I ate some delicious black beans and rice with coffee with some of the detail painters who work on the quieter, undisturbed second floor of the studio. After breakfast, I finished the owl with a couple hours of class to spare! He turned out good – a little fucked up, but definitely similar to the model I was working from. Now alls I need to do is let it dry for a week, then I can sand it.  Then I let it dry for 3-4 months, fill in the cracks and holes with wood glue and sawdust, then I can paint it. I also have the option of soaking it in gasoline after I sand it to kill all the insect eggs that are inside of it. While I was carving, I noticed there are many tiny little holes in the wood that small, brown insects crawl out of, so I’ll probably take that extra step to insure that my owl doesn’t get eaten alive.

After this, I chose a more challenging figure to conquer next week – a jaguar with an open mouth and a curved tail. It will be hard, but I’m ready to accept the challenge. I might as well take advantage of the tools and resources available to me during this course, and the help and guidance of Ray, Agustin, and Freddy. I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise. The figure is from a single piece of wood, larger than the owl, and much much much more complicated. Ray told me it would take me more than a week to finish it, so I’m prepared to stay a bit longer each day to make up for the limited time I have. The first thing I had to do was remove the bark, like last time. Then I had to create a level surface of the wood for the legs to balance. This step is very important, as the figure is carved from a single piece of wood, it must be balanced before any more cuts are made. This was so hard! Jacobo and Ray helped me a lot with this step, making paper-thin cuts with the machete, using full force with their big man muscles. I could only stand back and watch in awe. I’m psyched to continue work on this tomorrow!

This weekend was fun filled and a little crazy. Friday after class, Andreja met me in Ocotlan (a nearby town to San Martin) for the weekly market. Like most Mexican markets, there is everything – fruits, veggies, meat, cheese, chiles, dried fish, grasshoppers, knives, toys, clothes, underwear, batteries, artesanias, blankets, hats, belts, embroidery floss, etc. It was overwhelming and awesome. I ended up buying 4 knives (!) and an awesome fluorescent colored, hand embroidered skirt. Andreja picked out some beautiful embroidered shirts, and a scarf for her mom. As it started to get dark, we left the town in search of leftovers at the house, since we had missed lunch. We ate a ton of poblano spaghetti with black beans, and then got ready for the night. Andreja wasn’t feeling too hot, so I went with Kim, Alex, and Greer to a tiny mezcaleria called Cuish (Quixe) in the red-light district of town. It was a surprisingly young, artsy crowd, which put me at ease immediately. I met a dude named Boby – a 23-year-old street artist and muralist from Oaxaca who has an iridescent mural installation at the Contemporary Art Museum in Oaxaca. For such a young dude, he is quite accomplished. After a few shots of mezcal, we joined Kim and her friend Leo at Cafe Central – a larger, more posh venue that hosts shows and events. It reminded me of a Mexican Brillobox, fulla hipsters and red booth seating areas, and completely packed with people. Once we broke through the dense crowd of smokers in the patio near the entrance, we got in and had a beer.  It was fun, but I was feeling a bit beat, so I asked Boby to walk me home. As I was almost at the door, I passed Zapata gallery, right next door to my house, and who do I see but Julio peeking his head out! He was like, “Hey! Come in! We’re having a party to celebrate the new president!” Apparently, Dec 1st is a national holiday when there is a cambio de poder (changing of power), and this year, Enrique Peña Nieto, a member of PRI (the conservative party in Mexico) was “elected” president. According to what I can gather, this dude is a total rich, big wig douche who is ignorant to the problems of Mexico and especially its indigenous population. He used bribery and corruption to get his way into office, and he’s also married to a soap opera star! I feel bad for the Mexican people that they are living in what is called a democracy, but the government is so corrupt that “power to the people” is simply a theory rather than reality.

Anyway, this party at the gallery was fun. I ended up meeting a lot of people, some of which I already recognized from Tia’s show and other art events throughout town. I met a girl from Philadelphia who knew my former roommate from college (what a small world…), a dude from Boston who was trying to get in touch with his Mexican roots, and a dude named Pepe with whom I shared some Good Times and chatted about the city he loves. I didn’t get home until 4am, but it was quite an eventful night.

The next day, I woke up after getting maybe 2 hours of sleep. I felt like crap, but Kim, Alex, Greer and I went to Arrazola to pay back a sculptor that did some commission work for a former artist-in-residence. I tried ringing the Jimenez bros, but no one was home. The place was kind of a ghost town, both because it was a weekend, and also the day of the presidential inauguration. After this, we visited the Ex-Convento de Cuilapan de Guerrero, about 15 minutes away from Arrazola. Construction on the building began in the 16th century, but it was never finished due to lack of funds. It stands to this day without a roof. There is a small chapel that still holds mass (and has a roof!) connected to the historical site, and we saw a mass going on with eerie hymns being chanted slowly in Spanish by a mostly indigenous congregation.

After we walked around the site, we caught a bus back to the center, fell asleep, and woke up past our stop in the second-class bus terminal. We freaked out for a second, but then realized that we were withing walking distance of Abastos, which in turn is within walking distance of our house. Kim and I were starving after a long day of being hungover, so her and I and Andreja went to a place nearby to get tlayudas. It was in a garage, but the food was great, the owner was very nice, and it was cheap. I got a chorizo tlayuda, and it was served with the chorizo on top, for you to put inside yourself, or to just munch on. It was three generous links, perfectly charred and orange and salty and juicy, just how I like it! Mmm, sausage…

Once we recuperated forces, I met up with Oscar at Santo Domingo to go to the Cafe Central. There was a concert of Austin TV (a popular Mexican indie rock group) going on, and we came early to buy tickets. The place was even more packed than it was on Friday night. Marty and Kim arrived later, and Marty is actually friends with one of the guitarists from the band. Marty has accumulated quite a few friends in his short time in the city. He loves to talk and get to know people, and feels strong connections towards complete strangers that quickly evolve into deeper friendships. Totally awesome dude. Oscar lovingly calls him “El arbol” which means “The Tree” because of his height and his lanky frame.

The night was going great until Oscar started to say weird, flirtatious things to me and talk very close to my face. He then kissed me completely out of the blue, grabbing my face and forcing himself upon me. In front of others from the residency, and his own friends, I was humiliated. I pushed him away and told him to not do that again. Please.

I’ve experienced this kind of behavior from 90% of the guys I’ve been hanging out with so far in Oaxaca, and I am absolutely fed up with it. While I appreciate the attention, I don’t want it. It is completely unwelcome and out of line. I make it clear from the get-go that I have a boyfriend who I love and adore, and who I don’t lie to or cheat on. I did enough of that in Spain, and although my boyfriend at the time (who lived in Pittsburgh) and I had an agreement to have an “open relationship,” I ended up hurting him immensely because of my recklessness. I regret my behavior there, but at that time in my life, I had no idea how much it hurts to be cheated on. Of course, I didn’t realize  this until after I was cheated on by someone I loved. It was the most awful feeling in the world. I felt worthless, betrayed, angry, and vengeful. My preoccupation with this single indiscretion led to the demise of our relationship. I understand that these things happen and that people are not designed for monogamy, but still – I would have been much better having not known about the cheating.

Here in Oaxaca, I am not here to fuck around. I’m here to learn woodcarving, absorb the culture, and experience the city. A huge part of any city is the nightlife, and I’m always down to party and have a drink with friends. This is where most of the best conversations with people emerge, and where I’m able to open up and make friends. However, I’ve realized that I cannot be myself around men here. Almost all of them, seemingly innocent and friendly, have ulterior motives. I’ve had to push guys away trying to kiss me and touch me inappropriately, sometimes in crowded areas in front of other people I know – in one case, on a dark street against a wall with no one around. I’ve been frightened by these events, and always tell myself, “Okay – now that I’ve dodged that one, it won’t happen again.” But it keeps happening. I still have a man stalking me (the bartender from Whiskey). It’s been 2 weeks, and despite being threatened with police, he continues to come looking for me. Certain dudes I’ve had great times with always turn creepy within an instant, perhaps because I am a naturally friendly person. Any kind of friendliness is construed as flirtation with guys like this, and they think that they have the right to grope and kiss you because of it. I am not interested in this. I do not want anyone to touch me. I have no desire to do anything sexual or physical with anyone I meet here. How many times do I have to fucking say it? I am in a committed, rewarding relationship with a wonderful man that I love deeply and who loves me back equally. For the first time in my life, I feel that we are balanced in our love and affection for each other, and I’ll be damned if I am conned into fucking that up. I hate feeling helpless and powerless against almost complete strangers. I fall into the trap of trusting these guys at first, mostly out of my own loneliness and desire to make friends, but then they completely betray my trust and treat me like an object. When I push them away, I have to use force, sometimes having to do it repeatedly because they are so relentless. “Why don’t you want to?” they ask. “Because I don’t want to.” Do I honestly have to come up with a reason? I make my own decisions and no one makes them for me. It’s my body, and I’ll cry if I want to, and I have. It’s deeply upsetting to me to be treated this way, and I have never experienced it so strongly as I have here in Oaxaca. It makes it nearly impossible to make friends, and turns this small city into a minefield of people that I’m trying to avoid.

Sorry for the rant. That’s life. Until next time… que les vayan bien.

Click on the video links below to check out the Ojeda studio in San Martin Tilcajete, where I will be studying for the next 5 days.

Ojeda workshop, carving copal wood

Making natural pigment paint

Detail painting of Zapotec patterns

Maria Angeles Ojeda, master artisan, explains the different animals in the Zapotec calendar

This marks the end of my first two weeks here in beautiful Oaxaca, and I am beginning to feel a bit disillusioned.

On Wednesday night, Tia (the artist-in-residence here from New Zealand)  had her art opening at a nearby gallery called Proyecto Chicatana run by Cesar Chavez – a prominent printmaker here in Oaxaca. This guy is the man. His work is incredible. It’s very raw, morbid, funny, and relevant, and can be viewed here. Turns out, Cesar was recently at Kutztown University, and worked with Kevin McCloskey – Dan McCloskey’s dad – while he was there, doing workshops, exhibitions, etc. The KU article can be read here. What a small world this is!

Anyways, Tia’s show was great. The statement for her show was: ”The collection of my recent pieces explore the boundaries of conventional needle work practice through investigating the complex associations we have with human hair.” Her stuff is rad. She had numerous works on display, including intricate embroidery into matted human hair, a broken ceramic baby doll painted blue, and a bunch of chicken feet with fire engine red fingernails! Check out her website!

It was fun to go out with the Arquetopia gang and meet some local artists. I felt at home among people my age who have similar interests and who like to party. I have to admit, I miss that lifestyle a lot. After the show closed up, we brought over the extra mezcal to one of the guy’s houses up the block and had a little show. We played pots and pans in the kitchen while Julio (another young artist in Oaxaca) and Cesar free styled and played guitar. All around, people were just chilling, smoking and drinking 40s. It reminded me of Pittsburgh, and the waves of nostalgia started pouring over me. I miss my friends. I miss what they do. I miss being a part of the culture instead of just an admirer. I feel like a bystander here, witnessing so much beauty and wonder that I am overwhelmed by it. This is almost paralyzing to me.

Back in reality, we were all having a good time, but the owner of the house mentioned that his neighbors complain a lot. We took the party down the road to Fandango, the bar next door to our house. It was just as grimy as I expected it to be, but yet again, it reminded me of someplace I’d go drink in Pittsburgh. It was full of crust punx and the occasional mildly slutty goth chick. Feels like home! After some time at the Fandango, we went to Txalaparta, the cool club that hosted the Film Fest after party. It was fun, and it felt great to get out and experience the nightlife with a blend of friends and strangers.

The next day, Lazaro, Marty and I went to San Martin Tilcajete – the other wood carving village here in the Oaxaca Valley. Albeit short, it turned out to be an incredible trip. We visited the studio of Jacobo and Maria Angeles Ojeda who are two of the most prominent artisans in Mexico. They are internationally recognized for their work, and especially for the intricate Zapotec patterns that are painted on their larger work in natural pigment colors.

When we arrived, we were warmly greeted by Maria Angeles herself, and given a tour by a carver who works there. He guided us through the process of cultivating the copal tree (which they consider extremely important in preserving the tradition of alebrije carving in the region), carving with a machete and kitchen knives, drying, sanding, mixing natural pigment paint, painting, and selling. There were at least 20 people working throughout the large workshop, most of whom were women and young men painting. Most were painting with synthetic acrylic paints, while others were pouring over detail with handmade natural pigment paints that our guide also demonstrated to us.

The attention to detail was incredible. It looked as if a machine had done the work. Our guide explained that every pattern has a significance in Zapotec culture, and correlates to its calendar (similar to the Aztec and Mayan calendars). On average it takes a month and a half to finish painting a figure in this way. Only the highest-quality and most expensive pieces (usually carved by the master himself, Jacobo) are painted like this. The majority of the pieces produced at this studio are done in synthetic paints, and in turn, sold at a lower price.

After our tour, we were chatting with Maria Angeles and our guide in the gallery area, and I asked if I could buy some copal from them to work on. The cedar I bought is much too hard for my dull-ass machete to slice through, and I’ve only achieved blisters on my hands from trying. The guide said that if was interested, I could take a class at the workshop to learn how to carve. My eyes lit up and I smiled widely. Yes yes yes yes yes, I am interested, I told him. He gave me his card, and I emailed them the minute I got back to the house to eat lunch. They got back to me right away, and said that I could take a 5-day course from 10 AM to 2 PM this coming Monday thru Friday for $250 pesos each day. This equates to a little over $100 USD for the whole week. They will provide the wood and tools, and they said they would even sharpen my machete for me! I was so thrilled to make this arrangement – I’m finally doing what I set out to do here.

Friday, Lazaro, Greer, Alex, Andrea and I visited a cochinilla (cochineal) farm. Cochinilla are tiny, sessile, parasitic insects that live in the paddles of Nopal cacti. These insects produce an abundance of carminic acid to protect them from predators. Carminic acid is what produces the vibrant red color that the cochinilla are harvested for natural dye for food, cosmetics, and textiles. The farm had thousands of paddles – ready for cochinilla to infest. The paddles are removed from the mother cactus, stuck in a planter, and then infested with cochinilla. The larger, mature  females bury themselves in the cactus and secrete a white, chalky substance to protect from the sun and predators. The males are much smaller, and have wings. The insemination happens in what is called Zapotec nests which look like Chinese finger puzzles. They are placed on the top of the cactus, and clean females are placed in there to await getting knocked up. What is actually valuable are the large, mature females that bury themselves in the cactus to feed. Once the Nopal paddle is saturated with females, the farmer brushes them off into a mesh box, cleans them, then grinds them to a pulp using a mortar and pestle to produce red powder. This powder is then combined with other things to create various types of dye. Now that people are realizing that alizarin and other synthetic red dyes can be carcinogenic, the cochinilla are valuable again.

Yesterday, I went to Arrazola by myself to check out the smaller studios that I missed on my last two visits. I didn’t see Oscar this time, so I wandered up Calle Emiliano Zapata. It seemed like every house was a studio, door open, alebrijes on shelves, man carving, woman or child painting, and people standing outside telling me to come in. I visited several families like this, all of which were wonderful people, and many of whom are related to the Jimenez dynasty either through blood or through law. One of my first stops was the studio of Armando Jimenez and Antonia Carrillo Jimenez. Armando is the grandchild of Don Manuel, and Antonia is the sister of Nicolasa – the wife of Isaias Jimenez. Armando was out of town doing two exhibitions in the US (NY and LA), so Antonia was at the house with her 15-year old son Alejandro and her 5-year old daughter. Most of their work was also with Armando (40 pieces for each show, so 80 in total!), but there were a couple of works on display, as well as a large photo album of work and demonstrations that they have done in the US and in Mexico. Antonia was one of the nicest people I have met here. She told me to come back anytime, and that when her husband gets back on the 3rd of December, he will teach me some things. She also gave me three pieces of copal wood that Alejandro chopped off for me with a machete. I offered to pay her, but she politely refused. One of the pieces was the highly coveted copal verde, or wet copal, which is much easier for carving.

I also visited a woman named Floriberta, who sold vibrant and comical alebrijes out of a one-room house. Characteristically, her husband carves them and she and the girls in the family paint them. I bought a piece from her at a very good price, and I asked her if she would write her name for me. She told me, “I can’t write.” Here is this woman, probably in her 60s or 70s who has mastered the art of detail painting, color, and line for the majority of her life, who never learned to write. That will stick with me.

One of the final stops, after several beautiful and amazing other stops, was a couple who founded an organization called EcoAlebrijes. Their mission statement is as follows: “The SJSU-Ecoalebrijes Intercambio is a unique partnership between the Health Science Department at San Jose State University in California and the EcoAlebrijes Association of Arrazola in the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca. State-of-the-art technology, inspired by the artisans and organized by the students, invites you to explore the beautiful art of the alebrije, learn about the environmental sustainability projects of the Oaxacan partners, and to find out more about the artisan association.” The couple who runs it are from Arrazola, and they make beautiful work. They use a very unique color palette that was different from the other styles of alebrijes the I’ve seen thus far. The craftsmanship was outstanding, and the couple themselves were very kind and proud of the work that they do.

It can be tough, this whole art making thing in a different country. The people whose work I admire have been practicing since they were children. I am either too weak or I don’t have the correct tools necessary to make the beautiful work that they make. Despite the setbacks I’ve had, I’ve been very lucky too. I’m lucky to be here, and I am having a great time. While I do get lonely, especially now that the residency house is nearly cleared out, it’s important for me to be here. Thanks for supporting me in this wild adventure, and I truly cannot wait to come home.

Please view the video links below to see Isaias Jimenez in action, demonstrating use of the machete and simple kitchen knives, all while having a casual conversation.

Isaias Jimenez – “Hay que relajar.”

Platicando con el artesano maestro

Isaias Jimenez, carving a piece of cedar like it was butter, into a bunny that he gave to me to finish

Hola! Where we last left off, I went to Arrazola with Andrea, another resident artist. Arrazola is one of two main woodcarving villages in the outlying area of Oaxaca. We caught a bus in the Mercado de Abastos – a giant market at the edge of the city center where all of the busses and colectivo taxis depart from. The bus ride was slow – about 45 minutes to travel 10 km, but it was worth it.

When we arrived in Arrazola, we probably looked like two lost aliens on a strange planet. It was clearly a very small town, smaller than any other towns I’d visited thus far. We wandered up the only street that was around, and encountered a cute 10-year old boy. He approached us and asked if we wanted to see some wood figurines. Of course! That’s why we had come after all.

His name was Oscar, and he was almost completely silent the entire 10 minute walk. I’d ask him questions like, “What do you like to do?” “How old are you?” “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and he would respond bashfully with one-word answers. I was a little weirded out at this point, but I was excited and curious to see where we were going.

Oscar led us to the Jimenez family house and studio guarded by a big blue iron gate. We entered the house and were greeted by a giant tractor, presumably used to gather wood in the mountains. There were neat piles of wood among the lawn furniture, two magnificent dragon alebrijes, and a few sets of sliding doors that were wide open. There were some teenage kids hanging out in the patio area, and they turned on the lights for us in the house.

First we visited the small museum dedicated to Don Manuel Jimenez – “El Padre del Alebrije Oaxaceno” (“The Father of the Oaxacan Alebrije). Now deceased, Don Manuel left a large legacy of alebrije studios throughout Arrazola and in San Martin Tilcajete. His two sons, Angelico and Isaias continue carving in his traditional style and have exhibited internationally. I had seen Don Manuel’s work in various books and websites on Mexican woodcarving, and I was thrilled to see it in person. There were finished works as well as half-finished works on display, right next to the simple tools that he used throughout his life, his paint-splattered work bench, and many many books and magazines that he was featured in. There were also these wonderful screenprints and papercut works hung on the wall that were clearly inspired by his unique carving style and bold color palette.

Next, we went into the gallery/shop section of the house and met Nicolasa Jimenez – the wife of Isaias Jimenez who is the youngest son of Don Manuel. Nicolasa paints her husband and brother-in-law’s carvings and helps around the studio. She was a very kind woman, and told us that we could take pictures and touch the work as much as we’d like. I asked her if Isaias or Angelico (the older brother) were home, and she told me that Isaias would be back soon from running errands in town.

I was floored by the beauty and craftsmanship of the work on display in the gallery. I found myself staring from inches away at the intricate patterns, carefully-painted fur strokes, and perfectly articulated carved detail work. This is why I came to Oaxaca.

Nicolasa was kind enough to show us the studio where the brothers carve and she paints. The ground was covered in wood shavings and colorful paint splatters. There were a couple tree stumps moved into the room to be used as work stations, and several short benches. There were a couple large machetes and many small kitchen knives and chisels scattered about the room. On one side, there were many almost finished or unpainted figures, waiting their turn to be completed and signed by the artist.

Soon, Isaias came home, and he sat down on a low bench bathed in sunlight. He told us the story of his father, and how the Oaxacan alebrije came to be. Don Manuel was born to a family of subsistence farmers in San Antonio Arrazola, but he picked up woodcarving as a hobby at a young age. He made toys for kids and would try selling them at the nearby archaeological site Monte Alban with little success. This changed when Arthur Train, a man from New York who had ,relocated to Oaxaca to open an art gallery, discovered Manuel’s beautiful work. He encouraged him to continue producing, and eventually, Don Manuel had single-handedly transformed the industry of Arrazola from farming to woodcarving. This extended to nearby San Martin Tilcajete (formerly a textile village), and others, with entire families of woodcarvers popping up and fulfilling the high demand for these precious and collectible works of art. In the words of Isaias, “Don Manuel Jimenez de Arrazola es el arbol, los otros talleres en el Valle de Oaxaca son las ramas, y los alebrijes son las frutas ricas.” (“Don Manuel Jimenez of Arrazola is the tree, the other studios in the Valley of Oaxaca are the branches, and the alebrijes are the tasty fruits.”)

All the while, Isaias was tenderly carving a nearly complete bull figurine in his hands with a kitchen knife. The wood was smooth and his strokes were precise. It was as if he was working with butter. Eventually, I asked him if he could show me how he uses the machete to carve out the initial form of the animals. He enthusiastically sprang up from his workbench and grabbed a small piece of cedar from the floor. Placing it on the tree stump with one hand, he took a giant machete with the other and started whacking away at the wood. Within a matter of minutes, a rabbit was forming. Although the cedar was simple lumber from a hardware store, unlike the copal tree which is traditionally used, Isaias was able to communicate with the material and a form emerged almost magically. It only took a few swift machete strokes for him to realize that inside this piece of wood was a rabbit - un conejo. 

After about five minutes, he handed the rabbit to me and told me that I could finish it. I located a kitchen knife on the floor and started carving. This was my first experience carving wood, and I found that it was pretty damn hard. I am used to working with clay, which is a plastic medium that is additive. Wood is subtractive and one must use tools to manipulate it. The artist is responsible for removing any unnecessary parts of the original piece to reveal the final work. It is difficult to fix mistakes or go back and change major parts of the form, especially when you have no skill whatsoever with the tools. I kept at it for a while, managing to carve out a rudimentary ear and some paws. I was just thrilled to be jumping into the process of carving, in the company of a master craftsman, in his own studio where countless of masterpieces have been produced.

Before Andrea and I left, we checked out the gallery/shop again to browse. We ended up buying some awesome sculptures. She bought four smallish animals – an armadillo, a seal, a raccoon, and a cat, all painted in the bold style of Don Manuel – and I bought a larger green dog, also in the traditional, bold style. It was a mere $1000 pesos (about $80 US) for this incredible work of art that was signed by Don Manuel, Angelico and Isaias – all of whom had participated in the process of making it. I keep it by my bedside to remind me of how much further I have to go.

There were many highlights of this wonderful day, but the best thing was to hear from Isaias and Nicolasa that we were welcome back anytime. They were the most open people, encouraging us tourists to take photos, video, ask questions, handle their tools, etc. I have never experienced such hospitality before, especially from someone so revered.

Yesterday (Monday), Andrea and I along with Grier (a former Arquetopia resident) returned to Arrazola to pick up Andrea’s alebrijes that she had put a deposit down for. When we arrived, we met Angelico, the elder Jimenez brother who had not been present on Saturday). He seemed a little more lighthearted than Isaias, but equally serious about his craft and eager to discuss and share with us. I showed them the rabbit that I had continued to work on, and they were impressed (I think?) I had spent hours on it, but for them, it would have taken minutes. I had accidentally chipped pieces of both of the ears off in the process of carving out the wood underneath them and above the torso. The brothers suggested that I simply trim the longer ear to be the same length as the shorter one. I ended up implementing this suggestion, but adding my own twist. I lengthened the shorter ear to be roughly the same as the longer one. I’m excited to show them the finished work. As we left, Angelico offered that the next time I come, we carve for the day, then drink mezcal. “Don’t drink and carve!” he warned, laughing.

After us ladies returned to the city center and got delicious dinner at El Trompo, I noticed that there was a huge slash in my purse. It was the textile purse I had bought from the Mendoza family earlier that week. My wallet was missing. All of a sudden, I remembered that as I was getting on the bus to go to Arrazola earlier that afternoon, three men ambushed me in the steps leading up to the bus, two getting off and one getting on the bus. They pressed against me, and I thought they were just trying to squeeze by. I did think it was rude and strange, but I didn’t notice my wallet was stolen until hours later. One of them had cut into my bag with a knife.

I am now missing a good chunk of money, my driver’s license, credit card, debit card, and various other cards (Carnegie Library, Giant Eagle, CMU ID to ride busses for free damnit). Moreover, I feel violated. I had been having such an amazing trip here, and I was just getting used to being a normal person in this city. Now, I have a major setback. I don’t feel safe in the only part of town where busses and taxis to the outlying areas depart from. And I need to get to these places to gather supplies, inspiration and guidance from artists.

Regardless of this shitstorm, I went back to Abastos today to catch a taxi to a wood store in a neighboring town. After a long time of wandering around a dangerous area desperately asking people if their cabs went the direction I was going, I found a miracle cab and arrived at Mader Centro. This place was huge. It was a warehouse full of all different kinds and cuts of wood. Sawdust filled the air, the place smelled great. I bought some pieces of cedar that were not quite as thick as I needed them to be, but it was the thickest cut that they had of cedar (that’s what SHE said!). I also picked up sandpaper, wood glue, nails, and a MACHETE. It was the smallest one they had, but it is still almost 2 feet long. That will be fun to take home on the plane!

It was an arduous trek home, carrying a machete and heavy pieces of wood in plastic bags through the Zocalo at the busiest time of day during a national holiday (today was Dia de la Revolucion). I thought to myself, “What the fuck am I doing here?” I was just robbed yesterday, and yet I go out and spend my money on art supplies. Yep. Food is optional. Drink is semi-optional. Art is not. I feel like I am losing my mind sometimes.

Forgot to mention, after visiting Arrazola on Saturday, Teegs, the Aussie boys, and a few folks from the hostel went to a bar on the south side of town called “Whiskey.” It reminded me of a Mexican Belvedere’s. It was full of murals, street art style paintings, interesting furniture, and of course, Dia de los Muertos flags hung from the top of the walls. We were there to see a ska band and a reggae band play, and the music turned out to be pretty good. The people we encountered there were a mixed bag. One guy, a stout Rastafarian dude with thick dreads that looked like what comes out of my ass if I’m having a solid day, offered us a weed cookie. Most of us politely declined. He was having a conversation with Charlie, during which he kept edging closer and closer to her, practically stumbling on her. He was touching her and trying to kiss her. One of the Aussies, Zack, told him to go away and leave her alone, and in return, dreads dude punched Zack in the face! As Teegs so eloquently stated, “I’ve never seen anyone so stoned want to pick a fight so much.”

The bouncer, Roberto, kicked the guy out. However, Roberto was being his own form of creepy to me. This is the problem with Mexican guys. I start having a nice conversation with them, then they say I am beautiful and they want to marry me. After I mention that I have a boyfriend whom I love and adore, they get even more physical. No personal space, no surrender, and a sincere lack of respect. I can speak enough Spanish to communicate easily with people. There is no reason, after I specifically say, “Don’t be so close to me,” or “Don’t touch me,” or “Don’t kiss me,” that the guys should continue behaving like that. I’m no prude, but I hate hate hate hate hate feeling helpless. This is the other reason why I bought the machete at the wood store today. I’m also going to start telling guys that I’m married. This was suggested by Andrea, who is actually married, but finds that once she says this to Mexican guys who admire her, they lose interest.

Still, I’ve got that ol’ machete to fall back on.

Today marks the end of the first week of my residency in Oaxaca. A lot has happened since I last updated.

When we left off, I went with a few people from the residency to Santo Tomas Jalieza, a textile-weaving village, outside of the city. We walked to the other side of town to catch a Suburban van that was headed in that direction. It cost 20 pesos per head, which is actually more expensive than a local bus (11 pesos per head). Lazaro accompanied us. He is Arquetopia’s Spanish teacher and guide, and is very knowledgeable about the surrounding villages. When we arrived to this tiny village, we walked up the road to the house of Abigail and Eugenia Ramirez who are giving private weaving lessons to two people in the residency. Their house was their home, studio, gallery, and shop all at once. In the courtyard, several small trees were being used as weaving stations. The weaving itself is done with a series of wooden cylinders, a wooden rib, and thread. The thread used was a mixture of synthetic thread, and hand-dyed thread. The hand-dyed thread is more muted while the synthetic fibers can be bright, fluorescent colors. Eugenia is Abigail’s mother, and their family has been weaving for as long as they can remember. They weave thin strips of chunky or finely detailed designs, and then assemble them together into belts, purses, wallets, etc. Their work was beautiful, and the women were clearly proud of it – they happily showed us around and did a short weaving demo.

After returning from the village for lunch at the residency, I checked out Zach and Kirk’s pool at their hotel. It was gorgeous, right in the courtyard of the ancient building. It used to be a monastery, then it was converted to a prison, and currently it is a luxury hotel! It was a hot day, but somewhat cloudy, so I only got a little bit of color.

That night, I was invited to a film fest event on the terrace of a restaurant near Santo Domingo. Free tapas and beer = great time. I was introduced to three Aussie guys from Melbourne who are riding motorbikes from Canada to Argentina over the course of one year. They all decided to quit their jobs, go to Canada, buy motorbikes, and spend lots and lots of time together. Matt, Mark, and Ferg turn out to be awesome guys, and had many great stories to share with us. Aussies are awesome!

The next day, I went with Zack and Kirk to the ruins of Yagul (the original plan was to go to Monte Alban, but the road was closed due to an anti-government demonstration). In Mexico, there is only one road leading to any given place, so there aren’t many options. Yagul was very scenic, and we hiked up to a vista on a small mountain to get a better view of the ruins. Parts of them had been renovated, so it looked half authentic and ancient, half stucco bathroom. Still, it was great to see the valley of Oaxaca from an elevated point of view.

After Yagul, we took the bus to Tlacolula – a town that is famous for its production of mezcal. For those of you who are unaware, mezcal is a distilled alcoholic beverage made from the fermentation of wood-roasted hearts of the maguey plant (a form of agave). It can be compared to smoky tequila. Sometimes, there are little larvae that are placed inside during the bottling process. Mezcal is very specific to Oaxaca, although it can be made in other areas of Mexico. There is a popular saying that I love: ”Para todo mal, mezcal, y para todo bien también” (for everything bad, mezcal, and for everything good, as well). After grabbing tlayudas (a form of quesadillas that is very popular in Oaxaca) at the market, swatting flies away, and sharing some drink with a nice old man, Zach and I went to check out some mezcalerias. We came upon one that had a touristy exterior with eye-catching displays. After looking around for a little while, I noticed Zach had disappeared, so I peeked into the back of the shop to look for him. There was a garage area with a few rooms, one of which contained a Dia de los Muertos altar. There were some tiny chihuahuas running around, and they led me to a small room in the very back where Zach was drinking samples of different kinds of mezcal. The shop owners gave us almost 20 different samples of various flavors, including but not limited to pomegranate, orange, pineapple, coconut, pinapple + coconut, cream, honey, coffee, chocolate, viagra (the herb), yerba mate, mango, chicken, tobacco, and of course blanco and reposado. It was amazing. After getting a little sloshed, we each bought a bottle. Zach opened his on the bus to offer to people, which turned a boring bus ride back to the city center into something great. He made quite a reputation for himself.

Back in the city, we ate free food at a up-and-coming restaurant that serves traditional Oaxacan fare with a contemporary twist. It was great, and very swanky. We were ready to go to the final screening of “The Devil’s Dosh” at a cineplex on the edge of town. Teegan, my roomie from Melbourne, Australia, came with us to this extremely clean and new indoor mall which contained the cineplex. I was floored at how pristine this place was. Oaxaca is a generally clean city, but this mall was cleaner than any mall I had ever seen before in the US. It was late, and the shops were still open. The floors were sparkling marble. It was a sight to behold, and it kind of reminded me of being back home. Also joining us were the three Aussie dudes and their friends from the hostel.

After the movie, we headed back into town to get some food at the incredible El Trompo, then went to a film fest event titled, “Meet the Directors” at a bar called La Choperia. This bar had a distinctly sports-bar vibe to it. The soccer game was playing on huge TVs and there were groups of guys drinking beer out of three feet tall beer canisters. I opted for more free mezcal, and enjoyed Zach’s movie for a third time. It was very well-received, and we all had a great time mingling with directors and others. At the end of the night, I said goodbye to Kirk and Zach – my new friends. I hope to see them again sometime, and I’m sure they will be doing great things in LA. So proud of them!

The next day, Teegs had invited me to join her and Raul (another resident artist) on a trip to Mitla and El Hierve de Agua (mineral springs). Turns out, Raul couldn’t make it, and our friends the Aussies with motorbikes offered to take us there. I was a bit skeptical at first, getting on a motorbike to go on Mexican highways to a place that none of us had ever been before, but I figured, “when else in my life will I get to ride on a motorcycle in Mexico?” Probably never.

Turns out, this was the best thing ever.

Mark, the dude I rode with, sports an impressive handlebar mustache and reminds me of a mixture of Jon Hemmis and the Foster’s “philanthropist” dude. He gave me his helmet, which was very chivalrous and brave of him. These guys knew what they were doing, Matt, Mark, and Ferg had been basically living on their motorbikes, occasionally staying in hostels when they passed through towns, but more often that not just camping on the road. On Mark’s bike was me, on Ferg’s was Charlie (an awesome Aussie chick), and on Matt’s was Teegs.

Our first stop was El Arbol del Tule – the stoutest tree in the world, and one of the oldest. It was amazing, big, beautiful, pretty much what one would expect seeing a tree like this. After the tree, we hopped on the bikes to go to Mitla, a historic village about an hour outside of the city center. There, we got delicious quesadillas from a kind woman in the mercado with chorizo, quesillo, frijoles, and arroz. We ate heartily, because we knew there was still a long journey ahead of us.

The trek to the Hierve de Agua was ridiculous. First, we rode through increasingly rural areas that had signs pointing us straight. “Hierve de Agua, sigue derecha!” (go straight ahead). Then, the signs stopped appearing and we were driving up an inclined road. After a bit, we realized we were driving up a mountain on a very curvaceous and paired-down road. No guard rails, just dirt and the occasional burro carrying wood bundles. Mark drove carefully up the mountain, then back down. Halfway down the mountain, was FINALLY the mineral springs we had been looking forward to. It was still sunny, so we got off the bikes and stripped down into our bathing suits. This place was gorgeous. We stood at the edge of a cliff, in front of a pool of water, holding hands for pictures. I felt like I was in a movie. We walked down to the springs and got in the that water, which was a lot cleaner and dotted with only a couple of tourists. It was absolutely freezing, but you got used to it pretty quickly. It was lots of fun, but the sun was starting to go down and we were on motorbikes. Motorbikes + completely dark mountain roads = dangerous, so we left right away. The journey home took 2 hours, but we made it! Our hair was windswept, our butts sore, and our faces sunburned. There is no better way to see Mexico than on a bike. You feel the air, you can see the ground that you’re travelling on and the mountains surrounding you. You feel the length and distance of the journey more than you would in a tour bus or a taxi. It was a precious experience.

We treated the guys to dinner at El Trompo, and then went to the mezcaleria “In Situ” to have a drink. Between beers and sucking on chile-powdered lime wedges, we had a great conversation. We then went to yet another film fest event, the official closing party, at the rad bar that we went to earlier that week. Per usual, it was packed with people, but this time, there was a live salsa band in the front and a DJ in the back terrace area. We went up to the terrace, and I ran into Magdaleno – the guy who lives in a tree house who I randomly met my first day in Oaxaca. We also ran into several other folks from the hostel where the Aussies were staying, and some of our director friends. It was quite a fiesta. I was mostly chatting with Magdaleno and dancing salsa. Definitely a wonderful night to end a beautiful day.

Although I am not even close to being caught up with what has happened so far, I will have to update you tomorrow.   Coming up: alebrijes, Arrazola, Mexican ska, bar fights, chicken feet, and getting robbed. Orale!