Emerging From The Darkness

Reaching For The Moon Retablo available in my Etsy Store

The line art above is reminiscent of my childhood... the darkness and nightmares forever closing in... love seemingly out of reach... yet, I continued to yearn, continued to dream that someday I would hold it in my hands... that I could indeed reach even the moon if I tried hard enough...

This retablo is the hope that everyone will reach the moon, that no one should be haunted like the verses below -

In the hollow of my soul
lies a child forever haunted

Just beyond her reach,
the peace she always wanted

The glimmer of its hope
fading like the moon

The sweetness of its harmony
a mere echo of a tune

That swelled when angels left her
to harden into clay

Then faded into nothing
to let the Devil have his way

Will that song resume once more
now that youth has gone astray?

Her eyes forever waiting
for the night to end the day...

-me

The Spinner of Tales

Along Came A Spider Retablo in my Etsy Shop

The spider is the original "spinner", and for me he has always represented THE Spinner of Tales.  Here he has spun an entire world anew, created by imagination and shaped by the spider's craft.  It is no small thing to take on Nothing, whether it is a blank canvas or empty space - to bring to life words and images, to bring forth what hides in the universe of the heart and share it with the world.

This piece might seem as if I've stepped away from "my style" of artwork... in truth it is much closer to the "me" that has found solace in writing the story of those who cannot be seen, those lost in this world with no way back until their tale has been told.

This retablo represents the creative forces locked within and yearning to burst forth to leave their mark upon the world.  

Original illustration measures 9x12

Mediums used: watercolor, ink, pencil, and coffee

Practice What I Preach

Heart Home Nicho in my Etsy Shop

This is the second time (in recent bloggy time) that I've written up a post and decided not to go with it.  It was, again, because of the resounding juvenile resentment of every word for where I find myself.  The little Heart Home Nicho I just created reads, "why would you ever air dirty laundry", and I know I'm guilty of blog smog in past posts, therefore, I decided to practice what I preach and refrain from doing so now.

However, this leaves me a bit a mute... negative feelings, desperate feelings, can't be altered simply because I know I should keep them to myself.  I feel a break is in order, I have a longing to remove myself from my life and run so fast, so far I will eventually blur and fade... becoming an echo and nothing more.  More than ever I want to sink into my stories and fight real demons that can bleed and die, rather than emotional monsters that elude my grasp yet bury their own bony talons into my heart.

Y aqui finalmente, and finally here there may be some respite.  The new book I'm working on had gone still, but a breathe has emerged.  A whisper has begun to call my name, and a familiar face has resurfaced in my nightly walks, trailing along when I first leave the lake, and catching up as I proceed up the hill.  I will, of course, do everything possible to proceed in my own life, tirelessly looking for work (I did manage to secure a temporary gig), but I long to lose myself in the midst of my friend's world.

The Letter I Should've Written...

For aspiring authors, do not be shy to love your work; do not be modest when pitching it to a publisher.  Here's the letter I should have written to the publisher who turned me down:

Dear Editor,

I will cut to the chase and tell you right now that this is the best fucking book you will read, at the very least, this year.  What you have in your hands is not a manuscript, it is a door.  Open it and you will venture into a world that will both scare the shit out of you, and place a firm grip on your heart as you follow along with this trio of warriors.  Daunting, yes?  Still, this is what you signed up for, it is for you to bring this story to as many adventurers as possible.

Do not fail.  Do not take the easy route and sneer at a misplaced comma.  Do not be faint of heart and give this door a half-assed twist of the knob, dive in head first and I guarantee that there will be no where else to go but straight to print.  Your name will be hailed as the editor who had the balls to run with an unknown writer, and take a risk that ultimately led to millions stepping foot into an amazing universe and iconic tale.  The choice is yours - literary hero or ignorant dick.

Sincerely,
Me

Seeing as I have published this book myself, I guess we know where his place in history stands.

;-)

Oh, and the first 2 chapters are available to preview on my Facebook Page.

Artwork for my novel, Evolving.

Mountaintop...

Musical Retablo, The Balloon available in my Shop

I always wanted to live somewhere remote, somewhere way up high and far away.  I dreamt of writing and painting all day, earning my living with my words and art, and never having to descend from my little mountaintop unless I absolutely wanted to do so.  I function best, I believe, when I'm alone.  I'm free to let the characters in my head tell me their stories at their own pace; free to capture the images that float to me like visions whether it is day, night, lunch or dinner.

This dream has eluded me so far, but I've not given up on it.  I should probably cringe at the passing of time, I should probably feel that as the years roll by the dream is less tangible or possible.  Pero no, But no.  I welcome time's footsteps.  Anything that takes me further from where I began in this life is a blessed friend.  I might be getting older, but that dream is just as vivid.  And should I pass from this world without ever having sat on the mountaintop I dreamed of in my childhood, tengo fe, I have faith that it I never saw it here because it was always there... just waiting for me.

Dear Ollie

My online life has consisted of micro-burst via facebook lately, and I have to admit I've become very comfortable with it.  In part, I'm sure, because I know I've exposed my personal life quite a bit when I blog, and I sometimes wonder how wise that has been.  I've never been one to be open, I've always been mute about my past and my pain until I wandered into this online forum.  In facebook I'm automatically limited in what I can say.

However, a recent facebook page has had me wondering, for a while, whether I should expose another secret.  Un secreto que toda via, One that can still give me nightmares, and one that I'm glad lies as but a memory.    One that I hope never repeats itself, especially considering that I have been unable to find employment, and the economy continues to stall.

Well, here goes...

I will introduce you to the Dear Ollie page, started by a beautiful blogger who could not stand by while Dearest Ollie faces eviction at the end of the month unless enough money can be raised to grant her another 30 days reprieve.  Ollie is 66 years old with no family... I'm sorry, I mean with no loving family to assist her.  Imagine being 66 yrs old and facing eviction?

When I was 17 years old I was homeless for two days and two nights, my homelessness beginning on an evening.  Two days I lived on the street with nothing to eat and two nights I sat in a doorway trying not to close my eyes, which eventually could not be helped.  Have I ever been more frightened?  Unfortunately, yes.  Yet of all the things that haunt, of things that cannot be pushed to the back of one's mind and soul, is the terror of not knowing.  Not knowing what the night held for me with no walls for protection, even though I knew quite well walls can often be a prison.

I could not imagine facing such terror again.  Especially at 66.

These are not easy times for many of us, admittedly my own donation was but a pittance with my art & book sales down.  Still, I ask for Ollie's sake, can you can please "like" the Dear Ollie Page so that it begins to get some notice?  And if you have $1. or $2. or $5. to donate to her Fund, it would be much appreciated.

La Tempestad (The Storm) Retablo

love,

me

Everything In Its Own Time...

Nest Retablo available in my Etsy shop.

Todo a su tiempo, Everything in its own time... I tell myself this when I become impatient. I've been telling myself this a lot lately, coincidentally at the same time I keep seeing little nests everywhere.  All empty, little homes, but at one time filled with promise and hope--when the time was right that promise broke through and sang a glorious song to the day.  I must be patient.  I can feel my own song wanting to burst through, diligently pecking at its shell.  Y a su tiempo, and in its own time, it will burst through.