New Orleans Drawing Group

This Week’s Watercolor

When I was in New Orleans several years ago, I was invited to join a life drawing group by Sandra Burshell, a neighbor of the Airb&b where I stayed. The group met in the second floor over The Fair Grinds Coffee Shop that is a landmark in The Bayou St John neighborhood. Early in this Pandemic Year, Sandy bought a Zoom account and organized friends from her Fair Grinds Drawing Group to draw from the model on Zoom. With seemingly beautiful and seamless organization, she invited artist/participants and engaged models who set up themselves in their homes. The group has grown in the months that I have participated. Because of my “gypsy life,’ my ability to see the model clearly on my small laptop and work in various settings have been challenged. Now, however, I have a studio, and the time difference works in my favor. Every Thursday, I set up my pencils, crayons, and watercolors and paper with my MacBook Pro and a new 27” monitor on my large drawing bench and I spend the time between 3:45 and 6:45 drawing and painting from 7 short poses and one long pose. This time is a highlight of my week! In the past few months, Sandy has supplemented the newly designed New Orleans Zoom Drawing Group with a question and answer session with a well-known artist. This 45 minute discussion time is intellectually stimulating and feels very much like a “Salon” of the 2020’s. Thank you, Sandy! I am SO THANKFULl to be part of this amazing fellowship!

A Pandemic Year

February birthday Flowers in my New Albuquerque Home

I may add a new page documenting my Pandemic Year in Gainesville before I totally revamp this site but, for now, I am writing a bit of history that should address my eighteen or so months of blog silence.

In early 2020, I sold my historic home in Cedar Key FL and temporarily moved to an apartment in Gainesville FL. The Johnstons, a lovely family from Williston, FL, who bought my house, wanted to move in quickly; therefore I engaged many of my friends and my Colorado niece for help during a little over 6 weeks to organize, pack, and relinquish many of my household belongings. Almost all of my things were packed and stored in the mover’s warehouse since it was my intention to move to a major southern city within 2 months. Unfortunately, most Americans were effected by the Coronavirus in early March; therefore I decided to stay safe for as long as possible by renting Airb&b’s and staying at friends’ homes in Gainesville. At age 80, I believed that staying mentally and physically healthy was my most important consideration. For nearly a year, I remained in Gainesville. I regularly made journey daybook pages. I “saw” friends by “zooming.” I adopted a new puppy, Ruthy, who is named for Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I even meditated on Zoom and painted as part of a life drawing group from New Orleans on Zoom.

Late in 2020, I began to realize that during difficult times being close to family members was important. In December, I began to make tentative plans to relocate to Albuquerque, New Mexico, a city I knew well that is also close to my niece and two nephews, who live in the nearby “four corners,” near Durango, Colorado. In early January, Ruthy and I drove west, spending 4 nights in hotels that practiced CDC guidelines in their hotel management. I arrived in Albuquerque in a comfortable dog-friendly Airb&b where Ruthy and I were happy until we found our new home in the Nob Hill neighborhood. Our little adobe rental is in an historic district. Our home is my age. In many ways, my sense of being here is closely related to the reality of 2021. I live in friendly and ethnically mixed neighborhood where I feel safe. My parish church is just around the corner. While I know that nothing in life is sure, I feel comfortable and happy to accept whatever lies around the corner. In fact, I feel a certain wonder in not knowing what is next . . . .

The Last Days of my Christmas Journey to Mexico City

Collaged Christmas journey daybook page

My determination to make journey daybook pages each day of this trip was undaunted with any challenges I encountered during the past month. I purposely forced myself to write as well as draw and paint daily. For me, this Christmas was somewhat difficult and I used my pages to record my feelings about my experiences – no matter how uncomfortable it was to do this. I was alone without any family presence. My memories of Christmases past were disjointed from my actual, very different Christmas experience of being in Mexico City.

Christmas poinsettias spilling over a neighborhood wall

On Christmas Day, the streets were largely empty when Mimi and I made our three daily walks in the neighborhood. Egoistically, I wanted to avoid the appearance of being alone. But . .  .  Alone I was! So, I reflected. I read. I unwrapped and cherished the lovely, small gifts that I carried with me to Mexico. I connected with friends and family at home. And, Christmas Day passed. 

Sitting by a busy neighborhood street

Each day I was away, I scheduled at least one activity. Often one activity led to another, unscheduled event. As I traced my inspiration, I made several new friends –  people with whom I shared contact information.

Learning about outstanding Mexican single source coffees

I eagerly followed threads of information I gleaned from many new experiences –  the history and life of Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz, the first North American feminist whose image appears on the 200 peso note, the concept of the scallop shell or “concha,” coffee culture in Mexico, and mural painting and the depiction of skeletons in popular Mexican art history. I remembered an interview I read this fall by Stephanie Ledoux, a well-known French journal keeper, wherein she states that she appreciates 1) traveling alone and 2) not speaking the local language when she is away. These seemingly counterintuitive statements point to the fact that she has a much more time for working – for processing her experiences. I so agree with Ms Ledoux! For me, the difficulties of traveling alone, especially with a small, old dog, were far outweighed by the benefits and the wealth of my many positive experiences, the movement I was forced to make alone, and the work I accomplished.

The garden fountain I enjoyed at Casita de Palma

Most of all, I have a lively record of many new friendships and experiences. I am pleased to share some of these here. 

The End of 2018 in Mexico City

The casita garden

My little dog and I arrived back in our favorite city resting place in Coyoacan just before Christmas. Having planned this trip in October, I encountered several difficulties after Thanksgiving that made me question what I thought was a positive holiday travel decision; however I trusted my original wisdom and followed my plans to celebrate Christmas and make journey daybook pages around the year-end holidays. Mimi is relatively healthy; however she is 15 years old and mostly blind and deaf. What was a easy journey this summer became more stressful for both of us in December. Thankfully, we made it unscathed in less than 5 hours from the Orlando airport to our casita here.

Little has changed in the neighborhood in 5 months and it has been easy to pick up the routine of walking and riding by Uber to find sites that offered new educational and cultural opportunities. I have easily made journey daybook pages daily. I felt warmly accepted at the little local parish church of San Diego de Churubusco for mass and for one of the posada celebrations before Christmas. I loved attending mass, admiring the crèche, and walking through the Church of San Juan Bautista in the center of Coyoacan on Christmas Eve, before I had dinner at a popular Oxoacan restaurant, Los Danzantes, in the square.

When I planned this adventure my simple goal was to document my experiences as a way to appreciate them more fully. Without intention, the theme of my explorations here has been largely feminist. I have visited several U-Topicas, a contemporary feminist art gallery and book store, several times and continue to be inspired by their wonderful Facebook posts. The two historical figures from Mexico City that most intrigue me are Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, a 17th century nun, artist and poet, and Frida Kahlo, the wonderful 20th century artist in whose neighborhood we reside. I am surrounded every day by the brilliant work of my hostess, Luz, right here at the casita! I hope to deepen all these explorations and to share them in the next half of my journey and beyond.

Celebration: “Fiesta” – The Last Week in Coyoacan

An unfulfilled goal of my trip to Mexico City last fall was to Xochimilco to see the man-made islands, the plant market, and the extensive system of canals where colorful boats carry revelers up and down the intricate waterways. We experienced Xochimilco yesterday. You may remember this place from a 1944 film, “Maria Candelaria” or a lovely scene from “Frida” where the characters enjoyed the popular pastime of picnicking and partying on these beautiful boats. My friend, Alberto, treated Mimi and me to this trip to Xochimilco where I took lots of iPhone photos.

As is the custom here, so many simple life experiences become causes for celebration and there have been many such experiences for me this week. I have met many special people, apparently by chance, who have provided the richness of these days – local people at church, a family who operate a feminist art gallery, U-Topicas, and a contemporary artist, Balam Bartolome, whose exhibit, “Meximoron,” provided great meaning for me. I have made journey daybook pages regularly that further celebrate my experiences. Many of these will be revealed once I am home.

A important Christian holy day, The Assumption of Mary into Heaven, has informed much of this last week in this little part of Coyoacan. Our small neighborhood parish of San Diego de Churubusco has sponsored a special patrimonial fiesta that has lasted for several days. Just across the street from where I have been staying with my very kind hostess, Luz and her husband, Ricardo. there have been special food vendors, games, children’s rides, dancing and costumes, fireworks, and constant firecrackers (to Mimi’s woe!) The church and its entrance gate have been festooned with flowers. I, of course, have enjoyed drawing, often with watercolors, the many sights I have witnessed. Above is a journey daybook page I recorded showing the set-up of a game and cotton candy booth by a young family with a toddler.

Tomorrow, Mimi and I plan to head for home – back to Cedar Key, where we will further process the deeply meaningful experiences that we have enjoyed here. My heart is filled with gratitude for this beautiful 4-week experience.

Food in Coyoacan

Sunday’s very sweet mass at my neighborhood parish, San Diego de Churubusco, is a celebration where food is a focal point. Vendors park themselves in front of the 16th century church entrance, some of which probably support the tiny parish. Their umbrellas give a festive, somewhat mundane tone to an event I consider to be inherently solemn. Of course, the mass, itself, celebrates food in Transformation! As I walked from church last Sunday pondering meaning, I realized I needed to focus on food this week.

Mexico City, like Paris and New Orleans, is a great food city. The restaurant options provide a range of different ethnic tastes, price ranges, and varieties of regional Mexican food. Even the most expensive restaurants are affordable for most Americans. I went with a friend to an elegant restaurant, Los Danzantes, on the Coyoacan plaza a few weeks ago. I quickly developed a taste for really good mole, huitlacoche (corn truffle), and fried grasshoppers. I eat brunch regularly at a sweet cafe a block away that is reflective of 1842 Daily Grind & Mercantile in Cedar Key, except that it is purely Mexican. No English is spoken. There are also street-side vendors everywhere: most of them operate in very simple home-constructed vehicles, all offering Mexican cuisine in different forms.

For the past few days I have been drawing several of these vendors in the park across the street where I walk Mimi. The first journey daybook page shows the irony of the trash man’s cart pared in front of a tomale cart. The second page is a woman’s cart. She sells chicharrones. The last page shows the taco man’s cart. I was especially attracted to this cart because of this vendor’s ingenuity: everything, is included on his well-cared for bicycle, included his patched umbrella. (David didn’t want me to make his umbrella new and fresh but I explained my need to show the true history of my experience.) Each day, he rides his bike loaded with his wares 30 minutes from his home to the park.

I have been shopping in three of the 400 or so public markets in Mexico City. If you saw the film, ” Frida,” you saw the Coyoacan Mercado in the scene where Frida and Diego Rivera joke suggestively with vegetables and fruits on display. I have also shopped in the local San Mateo Mercado, a few blocks away, and on Wednesday, I went to the very large Portales Mercado that is located in a nearby colonia.

This intentionally food-focused week of images was capped off by a three-hour experience of mole-making last night was that was more about meaning than the actual preparation of the traditional pre-Hispanic sauce. Nefer teaches the procedure for making Mole Poblano that she learned from her grandmother who was from the nearby city of Pueblo that I visited last October. Nefer’s day job is that of a Jungian clinical psychologist. We both learned that we had a lot in common as we chopped and prepared herbs, fruits, and various vegetables, including three kinds of dried chilis in Nefer’s kitchen. We talked about the Journey Daybook. Although I had not brought my journey daybook last evening, I mentioned that I had been working in it for the past three weeks here in Mexico City. We looked at samples of the work online. I explained my visual recording compulsion, the non-profit I founded, and our work with inmates. She told me about Jung’s Red Book, his own beautiful illustrations and calligraphy, and mentioned that she thought that Jung’s exquisite work might provide more meaning for me. We ate Nefer’s magical dinner of chicken mole and red rice as we continued our discussion of Jung and his Red Book, leaving me with a profound yearning to discover more about the deeper meaning of The Journey Daybook and also myself.

In many ways, food may be the most important aspect of life!

In the Neighborhood

At the end of the half-way point of my time in Mexico City, I reflect that I have been saving many of the sights, sounds, and feelings from this neighborhood where I spend time walking, shopping, eating, and reflecting. These small nearby colonias of Coyoacan are typically not for tourists: in fact, it is rare to find someone who is able to speak English. I continue to study Spanish but I find that people are incredibly helpful interpreting for me.

Last night I had dinner with Mark, a restauranteur from Malta, at his tiny jewel of a bakery, cafe/ light dinner place where he welcomed me like a visiting cousin. His treatment reminded me of Martin and Terry in Cedar Key. The opening photo is of the entrance wall of edible hydroponic lettuces that he uses in salads.

My days have been spent largely conducting the affairs of my life with minimal tools and conveniences with which I have become accustomed at home. I cook here, trying to adapt my preferences to what is easily available at the mercado or local supermarket, like fresh yogurt, eggs, local fruits and veggies. I try to treat myself each day to a cappuccino and maybe a snack at a local cafe a block away called Cafexico. Here, none of the service people speak English but they are very helpful, being patient with my drawing and painting at the outside table, where Mimi sometimes joins me. My goal is to record, Here, I am posting some new images that I made the last few days in the neighborhood in Mexico City that I have adopted for the month.

Inspiration

After mass on Sunday I took an Uber to the National Museum of Watercolors nearby in Coyoacan, the only Museum on the world entirely devoted to this medium. The collection is extraordinary, featuring works from around the world but focusing on the museum’s founder, Alfredo Gati Roja. A special gift for me on this day was the opening of an exhibition of the travel watercolors of the Mexican architect, — Raul Diaz Gomez , whose work was composed of over one hundred sensitive small pieces made on site all over the world in a period of 50 years. What a privilege it was to meet this artist. Seeing this exhibition gave me a renewed commitment to make work more frequently and consistently.

Yesterday, I went to Lumen, a local art supply store here and found a new sketchbook to carry in my purse that is smaller than my usual 8 1/2 x 8 1/2″ square journey daybook. The double page format is square: and the paper is new and wonderfully adaptive to all media; therefore I was anxious to try it out. Right away, I went across the street from my casita and made a little drawing of the front of the National Museum of Interventions, the War Memorial that was created from the ex-convent of Churubusco.

Cuidad de Mexico Urban Sketchers at the Museo de Anthropologie

Yesterday I embarked alone on a journey to the city”s center, to Chapultepec Park, where I met more than 20 Urban Sketchers with whom I had communicated by means of their Facebook page. These mostly young architectural students have bi-monthly gatherings at different sites around the city. Lucky for me, this Saturday’s event was at one of the greatest museums of the world – a place I hope to visit again because of its vast collection of pre-hispanic art. Upon entering the museum, I was most impressed by the huge interior space that seems to embrace everything within sight. The galleries open from here. I settled on my stool and drew for about an hour, doing my best to capture my impression of the beautiful open space that is connected to human and vegetative life and to the modern city beyond. The breathtaking architecture truly reflects life.

I loved spending my fist Saturday afternoon sketching with new friends before taking an Uber trip back to my Coyoacan casita and Mimi.

Exploring my Colonia (neighborhood). San Mateo

After catching up with a few pages in my journey daybook this morning, I set out by foot to find a few grocery items and to look for the nearest parish church.

Yesterday

I found both. The Churubusco Mercado is the local covered public market about 6 short blocks away. It is close to the Chapel of San Mateo (Matthew).Below you can see some photos of a typical market stall and the chapel and plaza that, sadly, was locked so I couldn’t enter the plaza to draw.After shopping I stopped for lunch and enjoyed my first taste of mole at a local family-operated cafe.

I am astounded by the helpfulness and patience of everyone I encountered today. Almost no one spoke more than a few words of English and my Spanish is virtually non-existent; however I was able to buy 3 kinds of culinary herbs and fruit at the market and order a delicious lunch and pay for everything for less than $12 – all with the help of some very friendly neighborhood people. Yesterday I watched a Rick Steve’s Ted talk https://www.ricksteves.com/watch-read-listen/video/travel-talks/tedx-value-of-travel about the cultural value of travel as a means to open our minds, connect with a variety of people, and learn history by immersion. My short experience here has affirmed Rick’s profound travel teaching.