Category Archives: Art

Tears of anger

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Muffled

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I’m feeling muffled by my own self image of myself lol I mean, I’ve always been really sure and clear about my pro choice stance, it has been a certainty to me. I’ve never had a hint of doubt about the right of women to control their bodies, our bodies…

Thing is I’ve been living this “ideal” way too closely lately.  And I’m facing serious doubts about the repercussions “having a choice” is having within my society.

I myself wouldn’t do it to be perfectly honest, but I always thought it was women right to chose, and that I still think it. I still think it’s every women right to decide if she wants to be a mother or not and when she’d want to be a mom. So far I’m still good with it.

But you see, this year only within my closest personal circle (in laws, close friends) I’ve witnessed and accompanied 4 women to get abortions, 4 adults, professional, capable women to the abortion clinic to “get rid” of the inconvenience… And it have wounded me every single time.

I just … I just don’t “feel” it’s right.

Those were lives that could have been full of joy and love… But that’s not what causes me more pain, it’s actually the cold indifference and the lack of struggle I see to take such a drastic measure… It means nothing to them and I guess that’s cool cuz there’s no sadness or repentance, it’s like nothing happened…

So I think I should change my stance on it from “pro choice” to a I strongly support birth control but not abortion.

It’s hard to even think about it. But that’s how I feel 😦

Water colors on notebook page. Inspired by a thought Leny wrote to me few nights ago. Hair filtering what comes out : P

Medusa

 

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You will let me look into your eyes and turn your heart to stone.

pencil, marker, plastic crayon

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Quetzal

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This is one of the center pieces on the body paint I’m working on. It’s a “quetzal”, Guatemalan national bird and Maya sacred bird.

Legend says that during Spain’s invasion to Iximché, the Qui’che fortress city, the brave young prince Tecún Uman was mortally wounded by Spaniard vile general Don Pedro de Alvarado.

When the young prince fell, a beautiful quetzal went to rest over his chest, both died there and since that day, quetzals have their chest painted in bright red. Tainted by the Qui’che Prince’s blood.

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life

warning: this post is annoyingly personal and contains a lot of the usual lovelylollipop’s drama lol

*sigh*  I’m kind’a back, not really but I feel the need to speak/write something, I have been avoiding it on purpose, mostly out of a huge sentiment of guilt, spiced up with some shame and more guilt 😛

where were we last time?  I think it was when I traveled to Mexico City (I’m from Guatemala) when things started to mix and mess in my real life. Coming back was hard and mostly complex but the change was done and aside of long work hours things were looking okay the first month (october). I came here to fix Zara’s legal status as her dad is mexican and needed to resign custody for me to have the freedom to move around and travel with her… which basically meant she left my country ilegally (dad needed to sign her out of Guatemala but he couldn’t)… we cross the river 😛

anyway, that’s not why I stopped writting/drawing, at first the pause was due to lack of means, I mean, either I had no laptop, or internet acces, then I had no time (two shifts at work) and the lilk time I had, I used to be with family and talk to Leny (text via phone)… but the reason I stopped writting was cuz Leny and I ended up our relationship, and about that, I just have to say that it was all on me and I’m still not over it.

So, I’m sorry about the long pause and I’m even more sorry cuz I’m selfish enough to come back the minute I feel the imperius need to share and write, so feel free to give me the finger and pass over this 😛 seriously I understand and there no harsh feelings 🙂

Zara is great, happy as ever and Lily ended up being a male cat instead of a girl cat as formerly thought, so the cat is huge and he is still named Lily… I’m happy and missing yall as hell.

Lots of hugs to all 🙂

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this model will be performed in bodypaint the next May 30 at the 7mo Encuentro de Maquillaje Corporal Fonanbules en el Centro de Mexico Contemporaneo by yours trully. It’s possibly one of the few things I’ve done this past 6 months.  Represents a kite, the theme of the show is “Language ann tongues” and my concept is about the giant kites that are elevated to the sky on Novemeber first in Guatemala, it’s called “Words to the Gods” cuz our kites are used to send “telegrams” either to deities or ancestors in the sky.

 

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She’s Sleeping with the Fishes

IMAG4912-1-1_20140405221137486(Acrylic, oil pastel, finger nail polish)

 

He told me he hated cats; they were more useless than fucking pigeons. The corners of his mouth turn up, but only a little.  His eyes are still empty.  He told me that when he was a kid he used to catch kittens and place them in pillow cases to be tossed in the Hudson River.  He would watch them struggle and finally drown.  Sometimes it took a couple hours.  He found it to be relaxing to imagine what it felt like to be them.

He hated cats.  Maybe I really was dead when he tossed me into  the river.  I couldn’t see him through the bag, but he would have waited for me to sink.  If he imagined my thoughts of fear, he was wrong. I thought, “I never wanted to be a mermaid.”

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(I love this painting, the photos do not even begin to do it justice.)

Speak No Evil

IMAG4363_20140315131835605She thought she'd never tell.

 

I miss the collaborative effort that used to happen on this site. I have been rolling a few ideas around in my head about the direction that the site should go or starting my own site.    Either way, I will post the idea here.  If I do end up starting my own site, I will always put my art submissions here.  I will also be interested in administrators.  I know a couple of you who read my private site expressed interest in getting the scavenger hunt thing going again.  I think it is a great idea for this site, but I do not know how the administrators would feel about me taking over this site.  I will have to ask.

Dry Land

 

 

 

I always knew I didn’t belong on dry land, but I have been parted from the sea for far too long.  I can no longer call it home.  I’ll continue to breathe air that doesn’t sustain me.

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I have this quote from The Dollhouse stuck in my head.  “How can you remember and not remember something at the same time?” or something similar.  I often wonder when I will feel like my life is my own.

Oil pastel, wax crayon, ink

Portrait of John

My little guy and I collaborated on a portrait of him.  I wanted him to help, but he wouldn’t.  He told me he wanted fireflies and trees to be his dream so that is what I drew.

IMAG1994_20131222163538819Oil pastel, pencil, ink, glitter