New Books

Presenting a quartet of new titles, two out this month, two more set for early Spring.  Kingdom of Women is a timely look at an imagined world where women impose justice on rapists and murderers.  Prisoner of Pinochet reminds us what fascism and right-wing extremism are all about when authoritarian rule seizes power.  Betrayal at the Buffalo Ranch introduces readers to a Cherokee mystery writer writing about mysteries among the Cherokee.  And Photographic is a young adult graphic bio about the immortal Graciela Iturbide.

Remember -- Leaders are readers.

Kingdom of Women
Rosalie Morales Kearns
Jaded Ibis Press - December

[from the publisher]

Women are forming vigilante groups to wreak vengeance on rapists, child abusers, and murderers of women. Averil Parnell, a female Roman Catholic priest, faces a dilemma: per the Golden Rule she should advise forgiveness, but as the lone survivor of an infamous massacre of women seminarians, she understands their anger.

Averil befriends Catherine Beck, a former military officer who, unbeknownst to Averil, has begun an assassination campaign against rapists and murderers of women. At the same time, she embarks on an obsessive affair with John Honig, a wealthy young man with a sordid past as a serial rapist. The three of them quickly form a dysfunctional triangle of attraction and repulsion, love and obsession.

Averil’s life becomes even more complicated when she starts having visions: She sees the souls of dead monks, converses with Jesus, slips into alternate realities.

She had wanted to be a scholar, before the trauma of the massacre. Later, all she wanted was a quiet life as a parish priest. But now she finds that she has become a mystic, and a central figure in the social upheaval that’s gathering momentum all over the world.

Kingdom of Women spans decades and delves into multiple points of view, not only highlighting the personal evolution of a complex, troubled individual but also exploring larger themes like the ethical implications of the use of violence against oppression, and the tension between justice and mercy, revenge and forgiveness.

Rosalie Morales Kearns, a writer of Puerto Rican and Pennsylvania Dutch descent, is the founder of Shade Mountain Press, the author of the magic-realist story collection Virgins and Tricksters, and the editor of the short story anthology The Female Complaint: Tales of Unruly Women. A product of Catholic schooling from kindergarten through college, Kearns has a B.A. in theology from Fordham University and an MFA from the University of Illinois.

Prisoner of Pinochet: My Year in a Chilean Concentration Camp
Sergio Bitar
Translated by Erin Goodman; Foreword and notes by Peter Winn
University of Wisconsin Press - December

[from the publisher]

September 11, 1973: Chilean military forces under General Augusto Pinochet overthrew the elected government of President Salvador Allende, bombing the presidential palace with the president inside. Minister of Mining Sergio Bitar was forcibly detained along with other members of the Allende cabinet and confined on bleak, frigid Dawson Island in the Magellan Straits.

Prisoner of Pinochet is the gripping first-person chronicle of Bitar's year as a political prisoner before being expelled from Chile; a poignant narrative of men held captive together in a labor camp under harsh conditions, only able to guess at their eventual fate; and an insightful memoir of the momentous events of the early 1970s that led to seventeen years of bloody authoritarian rule in Chile. Available in English for the first time, this edition includes maps and photos from the 1970s and contextual notes by historian Peter Winn.

Sergio Bitar returned to Chile after years of exile and served as a senator and cabinet minister. He is the president of the Chilean Council for Strategy and Foresight, and his many books include Democratic Transitions: Conversations with World Leaders. Erin Goodman is the associate director of academic programs at the David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies, Harvard University, and coeditor of Reflections on Memory and Democracy. Peter Winn is a professor of Latin American history at Tufts University and coeditor of The Chile Reader.

Betrayal at the Buffalo Ranch
Sara Sue Hoklotubbe
University of Arizona Press - February, 2018

[from the publisher]

When Sadie Walela learns that her new neighbor in Cherokee Country, Angus Clyburn’s Buffalo Ranch, offers rich customers a chance to kill buffalo for fun, she is horrified. No good can surely come from this. It doesn’t, and murder soon follows. Even though Deputy Sheriff Lance Smith, Sadie’s love interest, suspects a link to the Buffalo Ranch, he can find little evidence to make an arrest. And when a rare white buffalo calf is born on the ranch and immediately disappears, Sadie’s instincts tell her something is wrong—and she sets out to prove it.

Her suspicions—and fears of more violence—escalate when a former schoolmate returns to Oklahoma to visit her ailing father and finds employment at the ranch. Will she be the next victim? Drawn deeper and deeper into danger, Sadie uncovers an unparalleled web of greed and corruption. It will take all of her investigating skill to set things straight—assuming she and her wolfdog can stay alive long enough to succeed.

Sara Sue Hoklotubbe, a Cherokee tribal citizen, is the author of the award-winning Sadie Walela Mystery series, which also includes Deception on All Accounts, The American Café, and Sinking Suspicions. She is the winner of a WILLA Literary Award, a New Mexico-Arizona Book Award for best mystery/ suspense, and a Wordcraft Circle of Native Writers and Storytellers Award for best mystery. She and her husband live in Colorado.

Photographic:  The Life of Graciela Iturbide

Isabel Quintero

Illustrated by Zeke Peña
Getty Publications - March, 2018

[from the publisher]
Graciela Iturbide was born in Mexico City in 1942, the oldest of thirteen children. When tragedy strikes Graciela as a young mother, she turns to photography for solace and understanding.

From then on Graciela embarks on a photographic journey that takes her throughout her native Mexico, from the Sonora Desert to Juchitán to Frida Kahlo’s bathroom, to the United States, India, and beyond.

Photographic is a symbolic, poetic, and deeply personal graphic biography of this iconic photographer. Graciela’s journey will excite young readers and budding photographers who will be inspired by her resolve, talent, and curiosity.

Isabel Quintero lives and writes in the Inland Empire of Southern California, where she was born and raised. She received her BA in English and MA in English Composition from California State University, San Bernardino. Her first novel, Gabi, A Girl in Pieces, was one of School Library Journal and Kirkus Reviews Best Books of 2014, and won the American Library Association’s William C. Morris Award prize for a debut young-adult novel. Her second book, Ugly Cat & Pablo (Scholastic), was published in April 2017, to much acclaim.

Zeke Peña is a cartoonist, an illustrator, and a painter. He was born in southern New Mexico and grew up on the US–Mexico border in El Paso, Texas. He received a degree in Art History from the University of Texas at Austin. His illustrations have appeared on album and book covers, in editorials and comics, and as graphics for community organizing. His work has been exhibited at the National Museum of Mexican Art (Chicago), Albuquerque Hispanic Cultural Center, Houston Center of Photography, MACLA (San Jose), Loisaida Center (New York), El Paso Museum of Art, and Museo de Arte Ciudad Juárez, as well as galleries in the US and Mexico.

_________________________________________________

Manuel Ramos is the author of several novels, short stories, poems, and non-fiction books and articles. His collection of short stories, The Skull of Pancho Villa and Other Stories, was a finalist for the 2016 Colorado Book Award. My Bad: A Mile High Noir was published by Arte Público Press in 2016 and was a finalist for the Shamus Award in the Original Paperback category sponsored by the Private Eye Writers of America.  He is hard at work on his next Chicano Noir crime novel.

Chicanonautica: Flying with the Papalomeh at the Bemis Center

by Ernest Hogan

Papalomeh in Nahuatl. Mariposas in Spanish. Butterflies in English.

Some of my artwork, and artifacts of my weird career, are on display at Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts, in Omaha, Nebraska, December 7, 2017 to Feburary 24, 2018, in a show called Monarchs: Brown and Native Contemporary Artists in the Path of the Butterfly.

Monarchs are the orange-and-black butterflies that cross the U.S./Mexico border as part of their life cycle. No wall can stop them. Also, the path of the butterfly is metamorphosis, transformation. Rather Chicanonautical, if you ask me.

This is thanks to Josh Rios and Anthony Romero, who have included me in their project that they call Is Our Future a Thing of the Past?

A good question in these dangerous days when, as Guillermo Gómez-Peña has recently pointed out, “science fiction is merely a chronicle of daily life.” Strange that this political turmoil has opened the door for me into the world of fine art. Just another phase of my long, hard lucha for the future.

To give you an idea of what to expect, I've illustrated this post with some special edition, computer-enhanced versions of some of my battle-scarred sketchbook covers, two of which will be there.

The Cultural Subversion is Our Most Important Product cover will not be there, but I'm including it here because, yes, cultural subversion really is our most important product, dammit!

Meanwhile, as per usual, I'm keeping one foot in the underground, so if the shit hits the fan, I'll have a place to stand.

Ernest Hogan's novel High Aztech will be seen through the lens of Aztec philosophy by Sal Herrera as part of "The Force of Teotl: Deriving Change From Chicano/a Futurisms and Indigenous Philosophies" at the 2018 Native American Literature Symposium.

A Piñata in a Pine Tree: A Latino Twelve Days of Christmas

Written by  Pat Mora

Illustrated by Magaly Morales

• Age Range: 4 - 7 years
• Grade Level: Preschool - 3
• Hardcover: 32 pages
• Publisher: Clarion Books
• ISBN-10: 0618841989
• ISBN-13: 978-0618841981

An award-winning author and a rising star artist have put a festive Latino twist on "The Twelve Days of Christmas," populating it with piñatas in place of partridges, plus burritos bailando (dancing donkeys), lunitas cantando (singing moons), and much more, all displayed in the most vivid colors imaginable.

In this version a little girl receives gifts from a secret amiga, whose identity is a sweet surprise at the book's conclusion. There are things to find and count in Spanish on every page, with pronunciations provided right in the pictures and a glossary and music following the story. This joyous fiesta will warm even the coldest of hearts.

  

Reviews

"Beginning with "a piñata in a pine tree" and culminating in "doce angelitos celebrando" (twelve angels rejoicing), the double-page spreads each contain a pronunciation guide for both gifts and numbers." --Horn Book

"Mora blends Latino holiday traditions of her native Southwest with some from Mexico. The inclusion of numerals and the pronunciation of the Spanish words... facilitates reading and makes it absolutely entertaining." --Kirkus Reviews

"In this Latino twist on the traditional folk song, the narrator's secret amiga's gifts include 'a piñata in a pine tree' and 'cuatro luminarias.' The identity of the girl's amiga is a sweet surprise..." --School Library Journal

"Spanish phrases pepper the traditional carol as a joyful child experiences the holiday...A luminous holiday pick, especially for new big brothers and sisters." --Publishers Weekly

"Mora has created not only a fun adaptation of a classic Christmas carol but also an introduction to many elements of holiday celebrations for families across the U.S. and Latin America." --Booklist

Poetry For A December Day: A Laureate's On-line Floricanto. Twelfth Month's First On-line Floricanto.

A Poet Laureate’s On-line Floricanto
Congratulations, Edward Vidaurre

La Bloga’s On-line Floricanto has long enjoyed sharing space with work by South Texas' Edward Vidaurre.  In addition to leading today's column, Vidaurre closes it with his selection to the month's first On-line Floricanto. Edward Vidaurre's work has been on several “Best Of” lists, including La Bloga's. See his bio below.

Edward’s work was recognized by Francisco X. Alarcón and Odilia Galván-Rodríguez for inclusion in Poetry of Resistance Voices for Social Justice (link), whose contents derive principally from La Bloga On-line Floricantos published since 2010.

Edward Vidaurre, hat and maroon shirt, with Poetry of Resistance poets at AWP 2016

La Bloga is elated learning Edward Vidaurre is the recently named 2018 McAllen TXPoet Laureate. ¡Bravo! In celebration and recognition of so singular an honor, La Bloga proudly shares A Laureate’s On-line Floricanto, selected by Mr. Vidaurre.


Early Morning
In My City
In Love With
Remembering Last Night’s Dreams
Lorca en La Frontera


Edward Vidaurre
Early Morning

rumi wakes to the scent of gunpowder

Ramona wakes and lights a candle for her tongue
it’s early enough to lay dead on a hyphen
a litter of cats die eight deaths

They welcome the fog, slow moving
feeling love for one another
she, his notorious kisses & poetry
he, her love for rolling around in fire

Without blinking, Ramona listens to his words
& how his moustache dances between syllables
rumi in awe, watches her stretch her stare from fall to winter

Both drink in the gossiping mist

He plants squash for his foes
she picks up a rock to stare at her reflection

rumi raises owls, feeds them plantains
they bring him cantos in exchange

Ramona, plants the songs next to a rosemary garden
in a month, teething children will sing the harvest

She chants for rain to go away
by stomping on the earth

He bottles up petrichor
so she won’t forget

Ramona,
porcelain doll with broken fingertips.
rumi, the gluemaster.

They look up at the stars.
Ramona says she sees a shooting opportunity
rumi stares into her eyes and points at stars.

Music plays on the turntable
rumi hums the tune of grackles and a speeding car.



Edward Vidaurre
In My City

Trees sway a slow dance
To the leg song of the cicada
To the long stretched accordion
To the hiccups of 2am taco truck customers

Tlacauches maraud at midnight
With handy footwork across lawns
Grappling the humidity, eating away at
The molding bananas and lettuce offerings left out in a bowl
as a thank you for snacking on mosquitoes and cucarachas

Dogs bark at barking dogs that bark at wolf
moons and passing shadows, at wobbly tire
passing cars, stray cats and late night chatter
from insomnia stricken artists burning the midnight oil

I pass by a home with a chandelier hanging from a branch,
another with a year round yard sale, and several with red doors
with scattered leaves from anacua trees confettied across their lawns

The people in this city move about like ants,
carrying the weight of life and hard work,
grackles stretch their song in long verses like the summers here,
I set my car on cruise control over the expressway and park
on a lot to see airplanes descent while scraping the syrup
top off my chamoyada raspa

I look at my phone and my friend just posted another
photo of palm trees under the hashtag #rgvpalmas,
Sundays choice of barbacoa or tamales
After being rattled awake by the neighbor’s lawn mower
Is a constant for me

I’ve lived in the stretch of the RGV,
from San Benito to Mission and in between
But longed to settle in McAllen, where my poems
Found their muse, and my dog ages at my feet.


Edward Vidaurre
In Love With

our house
and the wood flooring
the creaking under my bare feet
and my walk over to the kitchen for a glass of water
All leading back to you

In love with the bending hiss of the cat
and their hide-out: the broom closet.
Our cookbooks that opt out of my favorite dish: pupusas revueltas
and the motion in the king size bed
All leading back to you

In love with her music choices
the sound of faint trumpet sounds
melancholic piano suicides that are given second chances
and our future flower beds, tree swing, winter storms and child
All leading back to you

In love with gossip
and the mystery behind the words
the truth behind the lies
and the cutting of ties and relief
All leading back to you

In love with colors
the way our bedroom becomes an ocean
and our living room becomes a cliff overlooking the city
and our windows let the light in
All leading back to you



Edward Vidaurre
Remembering Last Night’s Dreams

I still walk the long walk with my hand in his, My grandpa and I take in the day, I breathe in the afternoon breeze,

he still has his throat intact. He has a stain on his grey suit and my shoelaces have come undone. He keeps apples in his pockets

for the horse. I keep mice in my socks for the owl. We don’t speak, still we talk through our hands. His watch has extra numbers

and he keeps looking at it, I smile and his throat is still intact. I grow a beard in my dream and he laughs, he has a thin moustache

that greys in my dream. It’s time, he says. I release the mice from my socks and he gets on the horse. He rides off, his throat opens up and he feeds the horse an apple.



Edward Vidaurre
Lorca en La Frontera

Donde juegan tu boca y los ecos
Se forman úlceras en los labios
De los duendes
Apenados por la masturbación
De sus propias sombras

Pequeños moribundos iluminados
Bailan en un mundo azul
Platicando en forma shadorma
Cuando cae la última hoja de la magnolia

El amor está en las plumas desgarradas
De la lechuza santa, de la estudiante católica,
en las manos del funerario, en la mentira de la luna
En la casa donde hay un cáncer

Una sola vela encendida canta,
México lindo! México Lindo!
Me llega un rumor
Me llegan gritos de mujeres

"Cuidado al cruzar el Río Grande"

Edward Vidaurre is the 2018 McAllen, Texas Poet Laureate and author of Chicano Blood Transfusion (FlowerSong Books 2016), Insomnia (El Zarape Press 2015), Beautiful Scars: Elegiac Beat Poems (El Zarape Press 2014), and I Took My Barrio on a Road Trip (Slough Press 2013). His new collection, Jazzhouse, is forthcoming from Prickly Pear Press & Ramona and rumi: A love story during oligarchy a chapbook with illustrations is complete. He is the founder of Pasta, Poetry,Vino and a moderator for the facebook page Poets Responding. He lives in McAllen with his wife and daughter, his dog Winston Bukowski and two cats, Pink Kitty Love-Love and Twinkie.



Mail Bag
Charlar With UNAM-Los Angeles 

Follow this link for more information.

Stanford Raza Readers Select Chicana Tributes As March Book

The Book Club of the Chicano/Latino Stanford Alumni Association of Southern California selects Chicana Tributes, edited by Rita Sanchez and Sonia Lopez, for its March 4, 2018 discussion. For information on the book club, write stanfordbooks@readraza.com for details.


2017's 12th Month First On-line Floricanto
Tomas Benitez, Andrea Mauk, Martivon Galindo, Jolaoso Pretty Thunder, and Edward Vidaurre

“Which One’s Pocahontas?” By Tomas Benitez
“Cadenas de Amor” By Andrea Mauk
“¡SALVE CAPITALISMO!” Por Martivon Galindo
“Chariot” By Jolaoso Pretty Thunder
“Huracán” / “Hurricane” Por Edward Vidaurre


Which One’s Pocahontas?
By Tomas Benitez

Which one's Pocahontas?

None of them are sir. They're Navajos.

Is there a difference?

Yes. Yes sir, there is a difference.

Are any of them related to Geronimo?

No sir. Geronimo was an Apache. Chiricahua.

Is there a difference?

Yes. Yes sir, there is a difference.

So these are not famous Indians?

Yes sir, they are. They are code talkers, they were instrumental in winning WWII.

Navajos. Navajos.

Was that a big deal?

Yes sir. A very big deal. You might say, a yuge deal.

Oh okay then. So which one's Pocahontas?

Just go give them the fucking medals sir.

Sure. sure. Are those Indians over there the Indians from Navajo land? Them?

Yes, sir.

They don't look that scary to me. They're all so old.

They are WWII Veterans, sir. Heroes. Warriors.

Warriors? Okay then. Watch my back.

Yes sir. And try not to mention Pocahontas. Sir.



Cadenas de Amor
By Andrea Mauk

I do not make arroz con gandules
all pegao on the bottom,
because I cannot reach across
to share it with my people in need.
Platanos rot on my counter,
as they drop on the island
into rivers of misery.

We find each other, reach our arms
like cadenas bound con fuerza gigante.
From the West Coast, there aren't
enough of us to stretch into the next
county, no less the Atlantic.
But we feel the power, the need
to spread the wing of the bird
pull it to safety,
here on the mainland.

We send prayers out
chains of voices with return addresses
hoping for a signal, a sign, something
anything...
to return like a boomerang.

A heartbeat echoing
from Ponce,
A voice trailing from Bayamón,
A tickle of laughter
from Yabucoa
A souvenir from
Old San Juan.

We are quiet...
Wait, that's just so wrong
because we are not a quiet people,
but you have to be still
to listen for breath
in the middle of el campo
across thousands of miles.

We copy the words
"Reboot your cell phones"
thinking maybe by God's good grace,
the phones are still charged.
We dial numbers, chains of digits
leave the names of loved ones,
and wait...

They are in a shelter
near Isabela,
they are with neighbors in Guayama,
the roof came off
in Mayagüez,
still nothing
from Cabo Rojo.

We find each other, fill our arms
with bottles of water and cans of tuna,
batteries and flashlights,
blankets and shoes,
only to be told the green stuff works better.
Cash only please.
We will donate 10% of all proceeds.
What???

We go to bed in guilty comfort
wrapped in our blankets
of stripes and one star.
Why did we leave you there?
In the U.S. Away,
the once-prized-now-forgotten
possession.
We whisper ourselves to sleep,
"We are American."

We do not cry.
We are strong, resilient.
Those are traces of Maria
trailing down our cheeks.
We feel you.
We know you are out there.
We want to go
but we are told not to.
The coqui en el Yunque
sings in our slumber.
In our dreams, we hold you
en Cadenas de amor.
We love you...

From far.

Andrea García Mauk grew up in Arizona, where both the immense beauty and harsh realities of living in the desert shaped her artistic soul. She calls Whittier, CA. home. She sells real estate, fights against gentrification, and teaches theatre there. She has also lived in Chicago, New York and Boston. She has worked in the music industry, and on various film and television productions. She writes short fiction, poetry, original screenplays and adaptations, writes and produces plays for children, and has completed two novels. Her writing and artwork has been published and viewed in a variety of places such as on The Late, Late Show with Tom Snyder; The Journal of School Psychologists and Victorian Homes Magazine. Both her poetry and artwork have won awards. Several of her poems and a memoir are included in the 2011 anthology, Our Spirit, Our Reality, and her poetry ishas been featured in Hinches de Poesia and in several issues of Mujeres de Maiz “‘Zine.” Her poetry is also published in Poetry of Resistance: Voices for Social Justice and Sonadores: We Came to Dream. She has also been a moderator of Diving Deeper, an online workshop for writers, and has written extensively about music, especially jazz, while working in the entertainment industry. She has a cookbook project on the back burner. When she is not writing, she loves to take road trips, sing in front if an audience, and spend time with her dogs and horse.



¡SALVE CAPITALISMO!
Por Martivon Galindo

Nosotros moriremos con el
Capitalismo,
estamos sentenciados.
Pobrecitos de nosotros
y sin haberlo disfrutado.
"Pobres de nosotros"
Alfonso Kijadurías

Salve Capitalismo, vaca sagrada
en tu seno hemos vivido,
engordado y gozado
todos los elegidos de tu urbe

Nos amamantaste de tu dulce leche
nos diste el apartamento en Miami
la casa de verano,
los clubs exclusivos

Que te mantengan siempre viva
la milicia, los poderes y el pisto de los cheles
que te den medicina
para que tu sangre no se hiele

Salve tú Capitalismo
que haces del humano, agresivo ejecutivo, yuppie
inventor de complicados sistemas
para maximizar ganancias

Tu mensaje es claro:
al pan, pan; al tonto, infierno
sos la pura mengambrea
diosa blanca perfumada

De tus tetas sonrosadas
gozamos panza arriba
de tu credo en la venta diaria
hemos hecho la nueva filosofía, la ética

Salve reina y señora
a ti imploramos
nos mantengas intactas
las leyes, el ejército, la Banca

Salve centenaria ceiba
contigo el orden, la paz, el progreso
la libertad de prensa,
a cada quien lo suyo

Has creado los paraísos turísticos
donde quitarnos el cansancio, el tedio
ir a gozar de bellas
y olvidarnos de tanto jincho nuestro

América del Norte es tu sueño dorado realizado
tu máxima carta, tus cuatro ases
Coca Cola, Hollywood, la Banca y la bolsa de valores
¡Capitalismo has triunfado!

Por supuesto hay ghetos sucios y mugrosos
negros ladrones, latinos ilegales haraganes
desempleados, un Harlem,
puertorriqueños hacinados bochinchosos

Eso es normal cualquier ciudad o país los tiene
siempre habrá ratas donde hay gente
no es tu culpa Capitalismo,
ellos lo quieren

Te llaman perra, prostituta, imperialista
y otros nombres feos
cuando tú, Capitalismo, eres la madre santa nuestra
reina y señora que nos has dado la sociedad perfecta



Chariot
By Jolaoso Pretty Thunder

Can I carry on like 500 convicts, 25 to Life
Colder than ice, colder
Strap me down
How many men does it take
“You are vulgar,” they tell me
Requiem from the rivers
Sweet overflow
Dread washed in the sea

Aloes and shea couldn't ever
soften his edges
They took away my husband in chains
He used to bring me flowers that I swear
Were funeral arrangements
Perfume of camphor and
Formaldehyde

He waited too long for me to die
I outlived him
Barely
Slammed and tossed
I was free falling
He tried so hard to be a felon
a thousand times over
And succeeded

Vandalizing my interior first
With his
Steady hands
Moving like an executioner
He was so precise
And kept calling for the guillotine
To roll my head

I wasted away
The antique band vowed
Enslaved me
It hung around my finger, wrist
Then my neck
I stepped out of it one day

They named me feral
Said my prayers won’t reach God
Many said he was so humble
But I saw how he was
always so hungry
Insatiable
He got off easy



Huracán
By Edward Vidaurre

Carro del año, asegurado
Fotos de abuela, rescatados
Un gato negro, se ahogó nueve veces.

Mis pies nadan con los juguetes
de una niña, entre muñequitos
y ositos de peluche, el mar

se los lleva con las sirenas
maltratadas.

Un pez se me acerca,
sus ojos con lágrimas,
en ellos, un llanto de canciones.

El tiempo se detiene, la música
Toca despacito... la garganta del mar,
El estomago de la ballena se llena
Con la calle donde te conocí.

Se desaparecieron los zanates,
Al otro lado del mar… plumas desconocidas
Entre el miedo y suspiros
Se escuchan los gritos de árboles caídos.

Hoy no nacen hijos ni hijas
Hoy la madre de la naturaleza
Camina de la mano con la muerte
Vestida de negro… comienza su luto

Hurricane
By Edward Vidaurre

New Vehicle, insured
Photos of grandma, rescued
A black cat, drowns nine times.

My feet swim with toys
Of a little girl, between dolls
And teddy bears, the sea
Takes them amongst mistreated
mermaids.

A fish nears,
It’s eyes with tears,
In them, somber songs

Time stands still, music
Plays on slow… throatsong of the sea
The stomach of a whale fills
With the street where we met

The grackles disappeared,
On the other side of the sea… unknown plumage
Between fear and sighs
You can hear the cries of fallen trees

Children won’t be born today
Mother Nature
Walks hand in hand with death
Dressed in black… she begins her mourning

New website dedicated to the late poet, Andrés Montoya, has been launched

 

Andrés Montoya

At the age of 31, the poet Andrés Montoya died from leukemia on May 26th, 1999. His debut collection, the ice worker sings and other poems (Bilingual Press, 1999), was awarded the 1997 Chicano/Latino Literary Prize from the University of California, Irvine. That year, the late poet Francisco X. Alarcón served as the judge. Released shortly after Montoya’s death, the collection won a Before Columbus Foundation American Book Award in 2000.

Acclaimed poet and literary critic, Rigoberto González, observed in an influential 2008 essay that “having read (and reviewed) so many worthy books of poetry written by Chicanos and Latinos, I make the following declaration very much informed by what has been written and published in the past: in this generation, the iceworker sings should be known as the finest book of poetry to come out of our community.”

Andrés Montoya’s brother, the writer, artist and professor, Maceo Montoya, has announced the launch of a new website dedicated to his late brother’s life and work: www.andresmontoyapoetry.com.

At the new website, you may find information about Andrés Montoya’s legacy and books, including the recently released posthumous collection, a jury of trees, as well as the following highlights:

A Books page that features the complete downloadable PDF of the 2008 issue of In the Grove - Pákatelas: An Homage to Andrés Montoya.

A Biography page that features photos of Andrés throughout the years as well as newspaper articles on his political activism.

A Support page where you can purchase books and artwork or donate directly to Andrés’s legacy, including the Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize and scholarships given in Andrés’s memory.

The website also features an Events page where you can learn about the upcoming spring 2018 symposium, “Together We’ll Be a Song: A Celebration of Andrés Montoya,” which will be held April 13-14 at Fresno State.

Maceo Montoya noted in his announcement of the new website:

“Almost 19 years after Andrés passed away from leukemia his poetry continues to be read and studied. Help keep his memory alive by reading his books and sharing them—I also encourage you to share this website widely. Please let me know if you have any questions regarding the content, purchasing books or artwork, or how you can help support Andrés’s legacy.”

Guest Columnist Antonio SolisGomez Interviews Artist George Peñaloza

Tucson Artist George Peñaloza
Antonio SolisGomez

Night is gaining as I drive through an older part of Tucson where old adobe building are occupied by law firms, ad agencies, restaurants and the like and are scattered among the a few buildings that still retain their original intent as homes. It is a section of the city’s downtown area where the Tucson Museum of Art is located and on the same property a small building occupied by The Romero House Potters, where I find George, working clay, as he does almost every day, his passion difficult to put aside even as night falls. He’s relaxed though as he works and it’s easy to perceive that he’s a quiet thoughtful person.

“What are you working on George,” I ask.

“Oh it’s a portion of a piece I call Queen Elizabeth.”

He holds the arm of an octopus, it’s suction cups clearly visible, behind it a creature holds on with two hands as if trying to do a chin up for a gym class.

Although it’s difficult to categorize George’s work, it is very easy to appreciate and enjoy his surrealistic juxtaposing of elements that most people would not consider belonging together in a work of art. But George sees it as quite natural and obvious that what he creates could not come in any other way.

George was born in Los Angeles but his mom and aunt moved to Nogales Arizona when he was a year old and was raised there until they moved to Tucson when he was fifteen. He finished High School and attended Pima Community College, where he began to concentrate on clay sculptures.

“So what inspires you George, where do these ideas come from?”

He‘s a bit taken back by the questions and I can see that he’s struggling to articulate something that would make sense to me because to him it is evident by looking at any of his pieces what is there.

“I mean do you start off with an idea of what a piece is going to be,” I add.

“Everything around me inspires me,” he finally answers. “I do start off with an idea but it changes as I work. For example the piece I call Voyage to Independence was inspired by my visit to Philadelphia, which is my favorite city because of the energy that I felt there. But I begin to add things that come to my head. And it evolves.”

“So what about this one that shows something that looks like a tornado,” I ask.

“I call that one ‘Twisted not Stirred’, showing the Wizard of Oz and how popular culture is like a tornado that takes everyone,” he responds.

“I notice too,” I say, “that there is a whimsical quality to your work. Is this intentional or something that sneaks up on you for instance the way you have Dorothy in the tornado with her red shoes visible.”

“No, no I try to be very positive to make people feel that my art is fun and to be enjoyed but I also want people to learn something like for instance in a piece that I call ‘Don’t be Crude’ that shows the Earth threatened by pollution.”

In that piece it is evident that George uses metaphor and symbolism to enhance his message but they are subtle and the viewer has to employ intelligence and imagination to fully appreciate what the piece is communicating. For example the use of the word crude that refers to oil, the horses of the apocalypse, the bird holding the Earth in its beak, an oil derrick and the rings of Saturn showing the interconnectedness of Earth to the rest of the universe. Heady Stuff, I think but, but fun .Que no?

George has had some recognition, has exhibited at the Tucson Museum of Art, The Obsidian Gallery, The Herberger Theater Center and has been a finalist four times of the NICHE Magazine Awards. But like many artists he has to work in order to make ends meet, in his case it’s as a server at a local restaurant.

“Tell me George what does the future hold for you?”

He takes his time thinking before saying, “As I’ve gotten older I’m more conscience of my art and what I’m doing. I’m more aware generally.”

Just before I take leave he shows me a piece that is near completion that he calls Gay Inspiration depicting icons of Gay culture such as Liberace, the Golden Girls, Samantha from Bewitched and others. It’s one of several that are works in progress, his fertile mind able to multi-task.

George can be reached via his email eccentricartist1@yahoo.com

A Film for Your Brain: Coco

Melinda Palacio

Miguel and his guitar in the movie Coco, photo from Google Images.

Pixar's new blockbuster Coco may also have added benefits to your coco, cabeza, and brain. That is if the film inspires folks to take up the guitar. I saw the film on Monday with my friend Lora who was still crying as we exited the theatre. We both enjoyed the meticulous animation, hilarious dialogue, and themes surrounding Día de Los Muertos, family, and honoring your antepasados. The film has a beautiful story, even though (SPOILER ALERT) Coco dies. The movie will warm the heart of any who might cry cultural appropriation without bothering to see the film.

True, many who never grew up with the tradition of honoring loved ones of the Day of the Dead might have already made a tradition of skeleton face painting, donning lots of marigolds, skeleton garb, and Frida Kahlo dresses during Halloween, or anytime during October. I must admit I had been skeptical about any kind of animated film about the tradition of Día de los Muertos, ever since learning about the controversy from cartoonist and satirist Lalo Alcaraz, who blasted Disney in 2013 for wanting to trademark the phrase Día de los Muertos in anticipation of the upcoming movie's merchandise. But in a genius move, Pixar brought in Lalo as part of a team of consultants in an effort to get Coco and all the film's details right.

I haven't seen all the current movie related merchandise, but I did notice that the Coco guitars are front and center at many places that sell musical instruments, especially guitars. Over the past two months, I've renewed my interest in learning how to play the guitar. In September, I dusted off one of Steve's old guitars and started practicing. My diligence paid off and for my birthday Steve took me guitar shopping. As pretty as they are, I didn't fall for the Coco guitars Disney and the Guitar Center were pushing. The guitar that found me was at a local music shop, Jensen's in Santa Barbara. I am the ecstatic owner of a gorgeous Martin Road Series guitar. It's probably the best birthday present anyone has ever given me. I will have to practice much more to become worthy of such a gift.

One of the more interesting things I've read about playing a musical instrument is that it serves as a total body workout for your brain. Read the article or watch the Ted Talk (thanks to fellow bloguera Olga for calling my attention to this piece). No other creative outlet works both sides of the brain the way playing a musical instrument does.

In the film, Coco, the main character, a boy named Miguel, must choose between his passion for music and his family. (LAST SPOILER ALERT) The film's heart-warming ending is a win-win with Miguel gaining his family's blessing to play the guitar. I truly do hope the movie inspires children of all ages to pick up the guitar. I can attest that it is loads of fun and a great hobby. I feel smarter already. The Coco guitar is one marketing gimmick I can get behind. Pixar did a good thing by bringing in Lalo Alcaraz, and their team of Latino consultants. Anyone who loves animated films, musicals, or a good story will not be disappointed. If guitar isn't your jam, pick up another instrument, your brain will thank you.

Me with my new guitar

Martin Road Series, hecho en Mexico and Pennsylvania