Former La Corua clients, Kevin & James, remain good friends, and I love doing the occasional project for them. They have expanded their fabulous vintage folk art store to include an small art gallery. Check them out!
Website: ​http://www.artedelavidatucson.com
Facebook: ​http://www.facebook.com/artedelavidatucson 

Imelda is my interpretation of a desert wise-woman and healer. She came to me as inspiration from a real-life curandera named Huila in Luis Alberto Urrea's novel, The Hummingbird's Daughter. 

Imelda walks barefoot with Mother Earth through a Sonoran sky-island landscape. The saguaro cactus is in the midst of spring bloom, surrounded by Gobernadora (creosote bush). Edging up the hillside is a gnarly old mesquite tree with a great horned owl gazing at her in the distance. (In indigenous folklore, owls are believed to portend death; but I present it here as the symbol of transition, ready to help Imelda guide spirits of the suffering to the Spirit or Flower World.)

She walks with reverence to all living things and gazes fondly at the life she sees around her. She is greeted by hummingbirds, a horned lizard, and creatures of the spring; including a dragon fly. I gave the turtle a mystical quality because I see her as the spirit of my own artist mother who loved turtles. Another mystical, mythical creature is the water-serpent, La Corúa. A vanishing folktale of the Sonoran borderlands tells of La Corúa: a large water snake with a cross on its forehead that guards the spring and cleans the veins of water with its fangs. It is believed that if you kill the Corúa the spring will dry up.*

Imelda wears a simple long huipil similar to those worn by the women in Vera Cruz but with embroidered flowers typical to the Yoeme (Pascua Yaqui) tribe. Around her neck is an Ojo de Venado (Dear Eye), a talisman to guard against evil spirits, and a handmade rosary with La Virgen de Guadalupe and shells for each mystery. She wears a golden rebozo (shawl) and a satchel for herbs and other healing talismans she finds.

Plants of medicinal significance:
Imelda is carrying Arizona/Summer poppies or Baiborín (Kallstroemia grandiflora) - used for fatigue, body pains, fever ... and mange in animals. Growing along the spring is a Passion-fruit vine (Passiflora mexicana) or Pasionaria, which grows in canyons of Southeastern Arizona and Mexico. A sedative, it quiets respiration and blood pressure.

The Gobernadora (Creosote bush), one of the most common, widely dispersed plants of the Desert Southwest, and has many medicinal properties. When applied as a salve to the skin, chaparral slows down the rate of bacterial growth and kills it with its antimicrobial activity.

Lastly is Toloache, Sacred Datura (Datura meteloides). Though highly toxic, this is one of the most beautiful plants of the Southwest. According to the Seri tribe, Datura was one of the first plants ever created. Therefore, it is said that humans should avoid contact with the plant as it is extremely sacred. Only shamans use the plant, as inappropriate use can be very dangerous. The Mixteca of Oaxaca, Mexico, believe that the plant spirit of Datura is an elderly wise woman.


*Tucson’s internationally renown folklorist, “Big Jim” Griffith has kept the tale of La Corúa alive through the years, and it became the inspiration for the name of my art business.)

In this homage, it is my intent to reach beyond the political wailing and gnashing of teeth to remind us that the Divine often comes through via the "least of these". The Christmas story has many parallels to the struggles of present day migrants crossing Arizona. It is my way of blending both historical and true-to-life contemporary elements, and of putting a human face on the "aliens" among us. My story goes like this:

The treacherous journey through Mexico and into the Sonoran desert overcomes the pregnant Maria, and she goes into labor. The pollero (coyote) of her group leaves her to fend for herself. She seeks shelter under the spreading branches of a mesquite tree.

Maria sits on her backpack, covered by her jacket. Her bare feet have blisters from many miles of walking. The man Jose is older than Maria and could be her husband, a relative, or a sympathetic fellow crosser. He wears dark clothing and the iconic back-pack with a gallon jug of water. In his right hand is a staff hewn from a mesquite branch, which may also indicate he's made this trek before.

Maria wraps the newborn Jesus in a bordado (hand-embroidered tortilla cloth) -- a memento given by her mother back home for her new life in the E.E.U.U. (United States). Hummingbirds are an auspicious blessing in most indigenous cultures, and three of them visit the baby.

The birth of this tiny human stirs the curiosity of some local desert wildlife... a javelina and her baby and a jackrabbit look on. A bobcat gazes from atop a saguaro behind the mesquite tree. ( Yes, they really do hang out on top of saguaros!) Crawling from the rocks towards Maria's battered shoes is a scorpion - a reminder that life is a precarious journey. (A scorpion logo also appears on many cartel drug packages.)

Instead of a star, there is a Border Patrol helicopter. It is not clear whether it has discovered Jose & Maria's hiding place... 

Navidad en Arizona is part of the vision I seek to portray through art:
a compassion that can stand in awe of what "the least of these" carry -- rather than stand in judgement of how they carry it.

- Linda Magdalena Victoria

Located at the base of Sentinel Peak (A Mountain), Barrio Kroeger Lane is set down on the birthplace of Tucson; named Chuk: Shon by its original inhabitants, the Tohono O'odham. There are remnants of ancient Hohokam and Piman settlements scattered throughout the area. It is still considered sacred land by the families (mostly Mexican-American and devoutly Catholic), who have lived here for generations. As with so much else in Tucson with development potential, this rustic neighborhood is endangered by the pressures of progress.

Barrio Kroeger lane gets its namesake from an Anglo doctor who served the neighborhood as a general practitioner. Due to its location on the banks of the Santa Cruz River, the area was also nicknamed Sal Si Puedes due to occasional flooding leaving only one or two exits out of the area.

What distinguishes this humble little neighborhood from most of Tucson’s other barrios is the continuing ownership of horses and small livestock animals. In early years, Tucson’s annual Fiesta del Día de San Juan was graced with rousing performances by Escaramuzas  (ladies in folklorico dresses riding sidesaddle) from Barrio Kroger Lane.  The railroad-tie corral fence is a defining feature of the neighborhood.

A gallo (rooster) crows as the young vaquero practices his skills with his lasso.

The walkway to the adobe house is made from TPBCO (Tucson Pressed Brick Company) bricks. TPBCO and other brick manufacturing companies thrived on the west bank of the Santa Cruz River in the 19th and early 20th centuries, and employed many of Barrio Kroger Lane’s residents.

The little hand-made capilla (chapel) was used to celebrate mass on special occasions. It was also built to honor elders unable to attend regular church. Succumbing to benign neglect, it has since been removed.

The cave high on the hillside is a tiny grotto-like cave honoring the Virgin of Guadalupe. The story goes that, in the 1950’s, a humble man with a devotion to Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe was thrown in jail for a crime he did not commit. From the jail he could see the A Mountain hillside, and every day he prayed to La Virgen. He promised her that if the real criminal was found he would build a shrine to her on that hillside. Sure enough, eventually the true culprit came forward and the man was freed. True to his manda (promise), he created this shrine honoring La Virgen de Guadalupe. The tiny grotto holds offerings to other saints, in particular San Judas, the saint of impossible causes, who is held dear by the neighborhood.

In more recent years, another shrine to the Lady was built on the mountain by local firefighters. She overlooks the sweeping intersection at Star Pass and Mission Roads, and is cleaned and seasonally decorated by Barrio Kroger Lane residents.

My thanks to Josefina Cardenas, long-time resident of Barrio Kroeger Lane, for helping me with this interpretation.

This is the first piece to promote a new store that will be opening on September 1st. It will feature fine Mexican Folk Art, vintage and new. Next projects will include designing the exterior sign for the store and then... the website! The owners are first class people and I am honored to be part of their endeavor.
(Click on the pictures to enlarge)

And here is the exterior sign for the store. It will hang in three sections swag-style, just as real papel picados do. (Papel picado literally means 'punched' or 'perforated' paper. Originally a highly-refined art form from China, this traditional cut paper folk art has been embraced throughout Mexico.) To learn more about the history of the papel picado, here is a link to a website chock full of them; along with many other great items:
http://www.mexicansugarskull.com/papel-picado/about.html

El Día de los Muertos/Day of the Dead/All Souls Day has its roots in the Aztec and Maya traditions of Mexico and is thousands of years old. 
​
It has become more & more recognized and celebrated here in the greater American West in recent years. The Day of the Dead as it is celebrated in central and southern Mexico is an incredible amalgamation of native and Catholic beliefs, and honors departed members of the family. As the time of year when the veil between the worlds is the thinnest, it is believed that the departed actually come back, returning to visit their grave sites and the scenes of their lives.

One of the ways that Mexicans cope with loss is to view the concept of death in an almost playful manner. Markets are filled with candy skulls (complete with names) and statues and depictions of calacas (skeletons) engaged in everyday acts like playing music, celebrating weddings (and funerals!), riding skeleton horses, bikes, and countless other life delights.

Artists have participated in the long-standing tradition of creating calaveras (skulls) to celebrate this event - often satirizing the events, customs and personalities of the day. The most famous Mexican artist known for this is José Guadalupe Posada.

In the northern frontiers of Mexico and border regions, El Día de los Muertos is more muted but departed family members are honored just the same. Fall is when families of the departed clean grave sites, give them fresh paint, and decorate the graves with flowers--fresh, silk/plastic, and hand-made paper.

Of all the seasons of the year, Fall is my favorite. Here in the Sonoran Desert the temperatures begin to cool and there is a restful stillness in the air. Around the world, many cultures celebrate this time as the annual window when the veil between the spirit and physical world is the thinnest. In pre-Christian times, death was not a thing to be feared but a transition to be celebrated as another form of life. In this way, family members and ancestors were honored and kept close in the hearts of the living.

During this special fall window, many grand occurrences take place in nature that have helped people connect with those who have passed on. In North America, one of the most phenomenal is the mass migration of the Monarch butterfly. Every year, 60 million-one billion Monarchs make the journey from eastern Canada to the forests of western central Mexico. They arrive in the state of Michoacán every fall. The Purépecha Indians in the region have noticed the arrival of monarchs since pre-Hispanic times. In the native Purépecha language, the monarch butterfly is called the harvester butterfly, because monarchs appear when it's time to harvest the corn.

Monarchs and the Mexican holiday Day of the Dead (El Día de los Muertos) also occurs when the monarchs appear. According to traditional belief, the monarchs are the souls of ancestors who are returning to Earth for their annual visit.

All Souls/All Saints/Day of the Dead occurs officially on November 2nd. In Mexico, however, it is a three-day celebration that begins on October 31st. More on this festive tradition next post.

The Virgin of Guadalupe is Mexico's patron saint and is loved and revered throughout the America's. Here, her tears turn into roses that rain down as a blessing on the deceased. (Roses are a key element in her legend, read more about her here.) Roses are also important to the Yoeme (Pascua Yaqui) cultural belief in the Flower World; their spiritual vision of heaven.

The presence of an owl portends death, according Mexican folk traditions. There is an old saying in Mexico: Cuando el tecolote canta, el indio muere ("When the owl cries/sings, the Indian dies"). The Aztecs and Maya, along with other Natives of Mesoamerica, considered the owl a symbol of death and destruction. 

The saguaro cactus has finished its spring bloom and is ready for the saguaro harvest conducted by the Tohono O'odham Indians in late June. From the saguaro fruit they make saguaro wine, jams, and jellies and have a rain feast in honor of the coming monsoon.

The horned lizard at the bottom does not have any special meaning except that they are a beloved endangered desert critter.

Sonoran Arizona remains America's migrant graveyard.  Nativist immigration policies have become more and more untethered in recent decades in a lust to grow the new industrial for-profit private prison complex. Meanwhile, the American economy still depends on immigrant labor, now more than ever - to feed us, and do the jobs Americans never have, and never will do.

I continue to find ways where I can honor all those who gave up everything for a better life. It is my intent to show here that we can only hope they are being received into a better place than those they knew in their home countries or in our deserts. 

True indeed.
​Everything I am and do is rooted in love of our land and its people, and our Mother. Her mantle has room for everyone.  And 'She Comes for Them'...

Over the past ten years, more than 4,000 people have died while crossing the Arizona desert to find jobs, join families, or start new lives. Other migrants tell of the corpses they pass—bodies that are never recovered or counted.

Crossing With the Virgin collects stories heard from migrants about these treacherous treks—firsthand accounts told to volunteers for the Samaritans, a humanitarian group that seeks to prevent such unnecessary deaths by providing these travelers with medical aid, water, and food.

Barrio Hollywood may be more united in its activism and Chicanismo than any of the others west of the Santa Cruz River, and has a long history to back it up. They maintain their ability to organize against powers that allow gentrification and development--  it decimated their neighbors in Barrio Viejo back in the 60s, and continues to chew up the West and South sides.  Old wounds run deep, and are still raw in Tucson's original neighborhoods -- and rightly so.  Overall, we gavachos (unflattering term for gringos), despite our best efforts (myself included) either haven't got a clue, or struggle to get one. (My old family hometown of Santa Fe, NM was sold out long ago by its local government, then run by old Hispano families. Rudolfo Acuña mentions it in his book, Occupied America.) The American Market drives everything. People sink or swim according to its whims, and rewards those who weaponize their shares to gain more. Neighborhoods in the margins are kept in poverty by design. The people of Barrio Hollywood are clear about what they have, and are wise to self-serving maneuvers by outsiders and politicians supposedly elected to represent them. 

This painting attempts to integrate neighborhood icons with a splash of historical timelessness. I also try to honor the power of family in Tucson's barrios.  Lowrider Culture is one of those, and is especially strong in Barrio Hollywood.  This piece sparked my own memories growing up in LA's multi-racial harbor and south-central Lowrider Culture in the turbulent 60s -- and I remain a fan of classic low-rider cars and its original music genre to this day. 

I think renown Tucson author and historian, Patricia Preciado Martin mentioned she grew up in Barrio Hollywood. Her many books about Southern Arizona's people, history and culture have been an inspiration me.  I believe it is also where Tucson's cherished mosaic muralist and teacher, Carlos Valenzuela of Las Artes Student Education Center, grew up. I'm just an old gavacha now, so I'm not entirely sure....

The cultural loss to Tucson, first with the Southside's Norteño Festival, then Fiesta Grande, is a real tragedy to me.  Fiesta Grande was the biggest and finest showcase of Mexican-American Culture with a dose of Yaqui Pride in the Southwest, IMHO.  Not to mention the money it raised for much-needed community programs towards youth development and crime prevention. FG brought more visitors to local businesses in 3 days than what they could get in 6 months. Outside of LA, where can one go for such a community effort focused on Chicano life anymore? Tucson is blessed with an eclectic and proud mix of brown and black talent coming out its ears.

Angelita Ochoa (below), (holding baby in the 1941 family portrait included in the painting),  saw her 97th birthday in 1995.

I created this painting styled as an ex-voto; a votive offering to a saint or divinity, given in fulfillment of a vow. (Click on photo to enlarge)

Adelita (la soldadera) stands tall, gazing forward, carrying a young child in a traditional indigenous sling. On her thigh rests a Carabina 30/30— (Winchester 30/30) decorated with a rose and two hummingbirds; both powerful Yoeme (Yaqui) symbols. She is dressed plainly, in a Tehuana style skirt. She shows signs of struggle but is poised and undeterred. She is the enduring Woman Warrior Spirit personified, the unsung strength of the world.

The girl child Adelita carries represents a new generation of life. She could be the child of Adelita, or a rescued child separated from her own natural mother. She sleeps peacefully.

• Blood on the ground: Mexico’s bloody history and ongoing struggles.
• Aztec calendar motif: embodies sun & earth deities Tonatiuh & Tlaltecuhtli – both related to sacrificial blood.
• Border Fence: symbol for all that is ridiculous.
• Skeletons: ancestors, perished migrants.
• Rattlesnake: Animal guardian, powerful transformative medicine. Also connected to the Aztec serpent goddess, Coatilcue, and Cihuateteo; one who guards the spirits of women who died in childbirth.
• Prickly pear cactus: (in this case opuntia var. Santa Rita) Food & sustenance for desert survivors.
• Mourning Dove w/creosote bush sprig: Desert peace symbol.
• Banner: In English: “If you want peace, work for justice.” --Pope Paul VI
• River: Santa Cruz River; without which human settlement in this far corner of the Sonoran desert would not have been possible.
• La Virgen de Guadalupe: Our Holy Blessed Mother and Empress of the Americas, sprung from the ancient Aztec mother goddess Tonanztin. Some believe that she holds the spiritual blueprint of the U.S. Southwest.

In my community travels, I have found that literally none have heard of La Corua or its legend.

At the Tucson's Birthplace Breakfast, I ran into an old acquaintance, Jesús Garcia; Sonoran native and naturalist at the Sonoran Desert Museum. We discussed the future of the Mission Garden and I gave him my card. He knows of La Corua well, and told me that it indeed is a real snake - not just a mythical animal as I understood it to be. I was thrilled and told him how much keeping Sonoran folk heritage alive means to me. 

So, here is the biology I uncovered about my business' namesake:

The boa constrictor (Boa constrictor) is found from South America to central Sonora. In Sonora, the Mexican boa constrictor or corúa (B. c. imperator) can be a rich dark reddish color in tropical deciduous forest or a paler grayish color in coastal thornscrub. Corúa (also coruba) is a pre-Columbian name. They are often found in canyons and are thought to be guardians of the aguajes (water holes). Unlike other serpents, killing them is thought to be bad luck (the water will dry up).

http://www.desertmuseum.org/programs/alamos_fauna_tdfgallery2.htm