Illustration Friday - Round

Hand painted silk

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La Esperanza (the hope)

The hurricane had sucked out all the breeze, which meant it was perfect for me to photograph my little purses on Tia Ilna’s seaside bench. Bigness, being the baby of the family, Ilna is an older sister, along with Ophelia, Ester and Isabel. It is my favorite place to photograph, but you have to time it just right, the sun canting to the west, a slice of sunlight between the palm branches and the beautiful afternoon golden light streams through. I can feel the light when it is right, and it only lasts about a ½ hour. I have to move fast to get all the shots in today because I am leaving Caye Caulker to go back to Chetumal Mexico. My wedding photography jobs are done and I am headed back to what feels like home now.

I dump the purses out onto the bench, here sits three weeks of work Three whole weeks. I wonder to myself, how much they will sell for at Pretty Ethnic and Belizean Arts in San Pedro. I can only make about 2 a day, and there is no way I can charge for my time. I am competing with mass produced, imported bags from Bali, China and Guatemala. I hope that people can see that they are one-of-a-kind hand beaded on hand painted silk. Truly original, wearable art. I hope, they read the tag which tells them that they can hand wash them, that they are fair trade products. I hope a fancy designer from New York buys some and decides to use them as inspiration for their next collection, and credits me. I also hope that my mother remembers that I am her only daughter.

The funny thing about growing old, is that nothing really changes, we just become more of who we are, softer or stiffer. I hope that Age will soften me.

In February, when my mother visited I found out a couple of new things about her. I found out that when she was a teenager she wanted to play the base violin, not with the bow, but to pluck it and play in a jazz band. He mother made her play the piano, she hated it and wasted the lessons. As a girl, I studied classical piano, or rather tolerated it. I loved the piano, but quit the lessons at age 16 because I just wanted to play like Elton John circa 1976. I can still read a little music, and play every so often, not often enough to keep unrusty though.

I found out that my mother had had a pregnancy before my oldest brother who was born 2 years after my parents married at the ages of 16 and 18.

I found out that the older I get the more like my father I become. Introverted, cerebral, needing a lot of time, brain space, can’t be rushed, quiet. I read the i

nstruction booklet before I start. My mother, who should be my biggest fan, isn’t. And it has always puzzled me. I am not a drug addict, or bank robber, or prostitute. I am just a girl following her dream, wherever it takes

her. My mother doesn’t approve of me. I don’t fit tightly into the box my she wants me in. I’ve tried it, it doesn’t fit me.

It was the quietness of this year, the year I quit my life in Belize, that I had enough head space to create new things. And many new things were created. So, now that I am talking about it again, I will share these new things with you, a little bit at a time.

Bigger is not Always Better

Sometimes bigger is just bigger.

In Mexico, while it has everything a person could want to buy, eat or do. The people are not friendly in our area. In 9 months I have met 3 people. Yes, you read it right… 3 people. My BELIZEAN Spanish teacher, a BELIZEAN massage therapist and one neighbor who is originally from the city of Merida, a very friendly place. That’s it.

At first I attributed it to the fact that in the beginning I didn’t get out much, I was very focused on setting up my studio and painting. I have to remind myself, I always get what I want. On Caye Caulker I suffered from Noseyneighboritis, people always up into my business. People love to talk here, and there is a fine line between gossip and information, and I have to admit, I participated in the listening and the saying. But what it comes down to is I really need a very quiet controlled environment to do my best work. I can’t be talking, answering the phone or having interruptions. I am the most like my father in that attribute. I need mental space.

When we moved to Mexico it was to a middle class neighborhood of modest homes with two working parents and live-in Guatemalan maids. I felt the open mouth stares from behind closed drapes as we would exit the 10 foot high security/privacy fence to drive somewhere in the car.

“There goes the neighborhood” I imagined them saying to themselves. A white lady and a giant BELIZEAN! What is the world coming to?

My best friend became the pug dog living next door who would only growl at me if I spoke English, but he would try and talk to me if I spoke Spanish. He told me that he was lonely and could he please have a piece of chicken?

I found myself shopping at Chedraui, looking for white ladies to crash my cart into, just for conversation. That's really weird, and I know it, you don't have to tell me.

So, I really got what I wanted. I wanted peace and quiet, and no interfering neighbors, no one calling me bothering me, taking up my time, trying to get me involved in their constant small town drama. I wanted to lower my cost of living, and live in a safe neighborhood (remember my best friend the machette). But life is not perfect. And you don’t know what you got ‘til its gone.

I’m back on Caye Caulker for a few days taking a break from Mexico and to do inventory at the stores selling my artwork and prints. I’m here to TALK. AND TALK AND TALK, as I sit on the street side verandah and people call out to me walking past, in their bikes and golf carts cruising…

"Eeeey! Miss Lee Ann, when you come back?"

"Miss Lee Ann, where you been?"

"Miss Lee Miss Lee Miss Lee, how come I neva de see you again?"

"Miss Lee Ann how you like Mexico?"

"Miss Lee Miss Lee, bring me some ah dat cheap food from Mexico!"

"Miss Lee, I gonna come see you in Mexico!"

"Miss Lee Ann how yu like Mak Donals?"

“I like Burger King better” I reply

“OFF OFF OFF” the little kids chanted on the street as the electricity flickered on for a moment and then browned out again.

Caye Caulker in the dark with no boom boxes or lights, people sounds only, no machines. Its nice. I’m fine, I can operate on batteries for quite a while. There is a breeze blowing, no need for a fan.

“Shutup gial!” I hear a tired mother trying to run a restaurant without current hushes her daughter who is happy and excited about another power outage. "This current jussa harass mi!" To kids its fun, but to businesses its a killer.

“Gial, current gaaan agayn” Bigness booms from the bedroom where he was watching Belize TV news discussing the Maya alliance and their conflict with central government over land rights, titles and leases. This problem is not unique only to Belize, it is this way all over the world, indigenous people treated like immigrants and immigrants treated like royalty.

Current back on for a few minutes, I’m ready to plug again and down down down the lights go. I stay unplugged during these episodes until I’m sure its safe. I don’t like the effect that the power surge has on my things and we all know that the electricity company never wants to take responsibility for damage from power outages, brownouts and spikes.

“Gial, the TV cure itself” Bigness announces from the bedroom. As the power goes back on.

One good thing that came from this power outage is, the sound on the TV in the master bedroom magically started working again. For 3 days Bigness has been lip reading the news and watching 12 Corezones, and doing, of all things… reading. I told him the "sound out" was practice for when he goes deaf, and then instantly felt guilty for saying it. It got a chuckle out of him, he LOVES my insults. I know, that's weird too, you don't have to tell me. If my 74-year-old mother heard me say that to my husband, she would wash my mouth out with Fels Naptha soap.

Now that the current is back on the only thing standing between Bigness and Caso Cerrado is that the cable TV company isn’t back online yet.

I feel like telling Bigness to hit it with a hammer to see if he can make it work. That’s my father’s personality in me and something I heard him say over and over facetiously as I was growing up with a self-taught mechanical genius. But I stifle it.

We go like this in fits and streaks. Current will be good good good for months, and then blip blap blam, its off. We are not experiencing the blackouts that San Pedro and villages on the mainland are, due to the fact that our juice comes from 3 giant diesel engines on the back side of the island. We are not hooked up to the national grid, and I don’t know if we really want to be either. Given that the majority of Belize’s electricity comes from a national grid that is supplied by Mexico, and Mexican hydroelectric power is at a low due to less rain this year. The Mexican newspaper announced that there will be power outages as they are not able to keep up with demand. I’m o.k. with the 3 diesel engines on the back side of the island and marvel sometimes at how very reliable our current is.

If I have to be anywhere in the world when the electricity goes off, it would be Caye Caulker with its people noise and the sound of palm trees in the breeze.

So, during my self imposed exile I created many many many little things. With this economic climate people don’t want to spend much money, so if any sales are made, they are the smaller pieces. I have new jewelry and small paintings. I’m now creating a silk self matt for these 10” x 10” silk paintings. They are available online (soon to be offered on my website) and at River’s Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, Michigan, in Belize at Pretty Ethnic in San Pedro, Caesar’s Place in San Ignacio, Fine Arts in Belize City, Los Cocos Cantina on Caye Caulker, and Art-n-Soul in Placencia. The price for a framed painting at River’s Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, Michigan is $97.00. I am offering them unframed in Belize for $47.50 U.S. and for an internet sale add $30 U.S. for shipping.

The Detroit Show

"ModernTechnology Meets Art" is the name of the exhibition ongoing with Ted Johnson at River's Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, Michigan

The thing is, my life seems to be coming together at the 11th hour. It is not for lack of planning, the plans are there... its just coming to fruition at the last possible moment, something breaks through. The plane ticket was purchased 2 days before flying from Cancun to Detroit, so I had to leave a day early to travel up the Yucatan to get from here to there. Bigness drove me to Chetumal, where I took the midnight bus to Playa Del Carmen, Mexico arriving at 4:30 a.m. I took a 10 minute cab ride from the ADO bus station to the other bus station where you take the shuttle to the airport. We had purchased snacks at Chedraui (the Mexican equivalent of Walmart) in Chetumal for me to have breakfast, some baked goods, a bottled coffee drink, peelable fruit. I avoided anything with meat in it. I arrived at the airport bus shuttle terminal a couple of hours before it opened, although it never physically closes, the ticket cages were empty, and all the benches were filled with sleeping people draped like they were melting in a Salvador Dali painting. I was so tired, already, and hungry. I ate my breakfast and then spread my windbreaker jacket on the floor of the bus station and layed down to take a little rest before running the gauntlet in the airport. I layed my head on my suitcase, wedged my carryon back pack behind me and physically layed on top of my purse. I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up about an hour later my stomach was ROLLING. You know the feeling, its the oops, what's happening to me feeling, I'm getting sweaty and clammy and I NEED TO FIND THE BATHROOM SOON! No one was stirring yet as it was still before 6 a.m., and the bathrooms were up the long long stairs. So, I drug my suitcase up up up, backpack on my back, and was confronted with the turnstyle entrance to the bathroom. I hoisted my suitcase over the turnstyle tipping it inside the entrance and let it drop, hoping that there were enough clothes inside my suitase to cushion the laptop from the fall (there were). I put my 3 pesos into the machine and stepped into the turnstyle with my backpack still on my back, not wanting to launch it over the barrier as it contained my camera. I got about 6 inches into the turn and the turstyle stopped. It appeared that I hadn't launched my suitcase far enough and the edge was caught in the turnstyle, and with the backpack on my back, I couldn't really move my arms . I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck. A sense of urgency is about to explode from the depths within me. I can hear footsteps on the stairs behind me, let it be someone who can help I say to myself, and look over my right shoulder at a little girl, a real little girl with 3 pesos in her hand. And I said in my best immitation of a spanish accent "Por Favor". She climbed the gate, unstuck the suitcase, I passed through the turnstyle, she climbed back over, inserted her 3 pesos into the slot and passed through next. I did what I came to do and left for the airport with a burgeoning case of food poisoning, which had me sick for almost a week. I got better the day before the opening.

River's Edge Gallery scheduled a meet the artist reception the same night as the Wyandotte Wine Crawl. What a great idea. The downtown merchants sponsored it by buying the wine that was served at each establishment that participated, and 1000 wine glasses were sold. You would purchase a wine glass and go from place to place tasting samples of Michigan wines. If I look a little bit drunk in the photos, it is because I AM. The reception and show response and attendance was great, and the show will continue to hang in River's Edge Gallery until September 13. After that, you can still purchase the peices from them. Christmas is on its way. In my absence, Supergirl

and my Dad did all the framing and delivered the show to the gallery by the due date. I could have never achieved this without their dedicated assistance.

Check out the show review at The Detroit Fashion Pages.

Illustration Friday - Garden - March 14

Red hibiscus flower from my friend's garden, hand-painted silk 24" x 24"

Illustration Friday - November 16 - Superstition

According to Wikipedia, Superstition is a belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge, in or of the ominous significance of a particular thing, circumstance, occurrence, proceeding, or the like.

Superstition indicates something standing above, or set up above. The earliest English uses of the word in the modern era refer critically to Catholic practices such as censing, rosaries, holy water and other practices that Protestants believed went beyond - or were set up above - their own interpretation of the New Testament practices of Christianity. From there the uses of the term expanded to include non-Christian religious practices, and beliefs that seemed unfounded or primitive in the light of modern knowledge.

Many extant superstitions arose before and during the time of the Black Plague that swept over Europe. During the time of the Black Plague, Pope Gregory I the Great passed a law requiring people to say "God bless you" when somebody sneezed; this was said to prevent the spread of the disease and to cure whoever already had it.[1]

According to Wikipedia, again, Shamanism refers to a range of traditional beliefs and practices concerned with communication with the spirit world. There are many variations in shamanism throughout the world, though there are some beliefs that are shared by all forms of shamanism:
The spirits can play important roles in human lives.
The shaman can control and/or cooperate with the spirits for the community's benefit.
The spirits can be either good or bad.
Shamans engage various processes and techniques to incite trance; such as: singing, dancing, taking entheogens, meditating and drumming.

Animals play an important role, acting as omens and message-bearers, as well as representations of animal spirit guides.

The shaman's spirit leaves the body and enters into the supernatural world during certain tasks.
The shamans can treat illnesses or sickness.

Shamans are healers, gurus and magicians.

Shamans have the ability to diagnose and cure human suffering and, in some societies, the ability to cause suffering. This is believed to be accomplished by traversing the axis mundi and forming a special relationship with, or gaining control over, spirits. Shamans have been credited with the ability to control the weather, divination, the interpretation of dreams, astral projection, and traveling to upper and lower worlds. Shamanistic traditions have existed throughout the world since prehistoric times.

Some anthropologists and religious scholars define a shaman as an intermediary between the natural and spiritual world, who travels between worlds in a state of trance. Once in the spirit world, the shaman would commune with the spirits for assistance in healing, hunting or weather management. Ripinsky-Naxon describes shamans as, “People who have a strong interest in their surrounding environment and the society of which they are a part.”

Other anthropologists critique the term "shamanism", arguing that it is a culturally specific word and institution and that by expanding it to fit any healer from any traditional society it produces a false unity between these cultures and creates a false idea of an initial human religion predating all others. However, others say that these anthropologists simply fail to recognize the commonalities between otherwise diverse traditional societies.

Shamanism is based on the premise that the visible world is pervaded by invisible forces or spirits that affect the lives of the living. In contrast to animism and animatism, which any and usually all members of a society practice, shamanism requires specialized knowledge or abilities. It could be said that shamans are the experts employed by animists and animist communities. Shamans are often organized into full-time ritual or spiritual associations, like priests.

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I've never encountered so many superstitious people as I have since moving to Belize.

I find it interesting that many Christian holidays fall on the same date that traditional Pagan ceremonies would occour. The Maya believe in the old ways, and owuld be openly practicing if the Catholic missionaries hadn't come in and messed things up. You could call the old ways superstitions, or you could call it an awareness of the spirit world and how it affects the physical world. I am an inbetweener, I believe some things call down Mr. Badlucky, and some things are just human nature and not avoidable.

Obea is a form of ritual for the Garifuna people of Belize. To obea someone is to call down the bad spirits upon a person, to cause bad spirit posession. I believe you can obea someone, because your intention is wrong, you bring about all kinds of bad feelings and direct them towards a person and that can't be good. I don't believe it to the exent that some do, and they blame every random act and mishap on someone "doing them something" or rather than accept responsibility for bad decisions. Bigness laughs at Obea. He says he likes it when people try to "do him someting" it brings him more luck than ever.


What do you believe?

Art Credits: 20" x 28" hand painted silk "Smoke" $225 U.S.

Show-N-Tell

I’ve set up a temporary studio in my oldest daughter’s sun room on the back of her house. The light is northern and very constant. With so much sunshine, I've ben able to log quite a few studio hours preparing new work for the gallery to start the season off. It’s 3:45 p.m. and I hear the front door to the house slam, clomp, clomp, clomp, books being deposited, refrigerator door opens and then closes, the TV plinks on and it’s the Disney Channel. The back door slams and May appears at the door to the sunroom giving a tour to another blonde blue eyed 7 year old.

May: That’s my Gramma
Me: (I look up and smile)
May: she lives in the jungle
May: Belize is an island and they have monkeys there
May: she lives with Grandpa Bigness on the beach, he’s not my real Grandpa but he’s my biggest
May: She’s a painter
May: She’s famous, right Grandma?
Me: I’m a legend in my own mind
May: her paper is silk… look (as she holds up an unpainted scrap and wraps it around her like a skirt)
May: that’s my tiger ears (and points at the headband on my head with the furry tiger ears sticking off the top)
May: my dad got it for me at the tiger’s game
May: Grandma why are you wearing my tiger ears?
Me: to keep my hair out of my eyes, is that o.k.?
May: sure
Around the table they circle, May showing and interpreting my paintings, the girl's eyes big as saucers.
May: That one’s called Maxi and the Motorbike. There’s Maxi, and here’s Midi and Mini carrying the drums.
Girl: How much does this one cost?
Me: $950
Girl: oh... I’ll tell my mom to come right over and buy it

Feeling Inspired

We picked up my oldest daughter (Adria), her husband (Jay) and their 6 year old daughter (my granddaughter May) in the morning in Cancun, close to being right on time and headed south arriving in Belize at our house in the bush at around 9 p.m. It was a long, long day and I’m grateful that Bigness loves to drive for the trip would have taken 3 days if left to me. I would have driven a little, had lunch, wandered around a bit, driven a little bit more, stopped for a snack and a bathroom break, then driven a little more and at sunset, its time to stop and rest at a hotel with a pool. I reiterate, I’m glad I’m just the passenger in these excursions. Upon leaving Chetumal Mexico I announced to Jay, that’s the last MacDonald's you will see for the next 10 days. He looked a bit worried and probably wondered what he would eat all week. After a good night’s rest at our little house in the bush, we headed for Caye Caulker the next morning to start their island vacation. I got to wear some of my new threads that I had ordered online from oldnavy.com and had sent to their house to be stuffed into a suitcase. So for now I don’t look like I’ve picked my clothes out of the missionary rag bag. Plus she came like the cavalry with new art supplies!

There was no big agenda. No real plans. We went inland to the zoo and to a butterfly farm one day, they went with Supergirl to San Pedro one day and snorkeling on the Glass Bottom Boat one day. The rest of the time was as follows:

-Breakfast

-Beach walk or Sports bar to watch the game

-Morning nap in the hammock or Sports Bar to watch the game

-Lunch AND Sports Bar to watch the game

-Swimming or Sports Bar to watch the game

-Afternoon nap in the hammock or Sports Bar to watch the game

-Dinner AND Sports Bar to watch the game

-Other activities included walks to Chan’s Mini Mart to buy salsa casera to add to the guacamole, and one time to buy linguini for the pesto pasta. Walks to Albert’s Mini mart for cans of Diet A&W Root Beer and Diet Dr. Pepper.

A couple of evenings were spent "fishing" with hand lines at the split and from the main pier (after the game at the Sports Bar). We had more success the second time fishing when we switched the bait from steak fat and french fries to sardines. UNBaby and Maya loved it, for about 5 minutes and then fell asleep in chairs. I don’t know what we would have done if we had actually caught something, it was fun teasing the fish though, and we saw some BIG ones at the split after dark.

Art Info: The new paintings are on silk. The top 3 square ones are for tile designs that will be available soon on Cafepress.com. The blue morpho painting has already sold, the jaguar painting "El Tigre" is available for $175 U.S. and is approx. 19" x 27". The square fish painting originals are available for $125 U.S. each (plus shipping) and are 16" x 16".

Illustration Friday - Dec 8 - Mask

Hand-painted silk inspired by an antique Benin mask. I painted this several years ago for the fashion empress of Detroit, Sharrone Mitchell. This painting became the back of a man's coat.



A photo illustration using a clay mask by Belizean artist Felipe Zetina, a grass mat and habanero peppers and various photoshop filters.

Check out more Illustration Friday submissions.