Artist, Frances T. Trammell

Several months ago, I blogged about sources of inspiration and focused briefly on my late grandmother, Frances T. Trammell. Frances was a local artist in the Maryland area that towards the later part of her career, focused on nautical paintings. She had a MFA from University of Maryland, taught art in Hyattsville, is referenced in the Pola Nirenska Collection of the Library of Congress, and even had a local artist exhibit at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in D.C.

She died approximately one year before I was born, but as an aspiring artist myself, I am extremely interested in learning about her and tracking down her pieces of work. To the best of my family's knowledge, some of her work had been at local galleries and was lost / never returned. I believe these pieces included Punch & Judy puppets and paintings.

This morning, I received an email from a woman who found my blog entry about my grandmother. She was researching the painting pictured below, Googled 'artist Frances T. Trammell' and found my post. She emailed me with photos of the painting inquiring whether the piece is in fact hers - at first glance it looks like her work and is her signature / appropriate year (Frances Townsend Trammell = Frances T. Trammell).

Although I am a self proclaimed online marketing 'geek', I've been disturbed by the social disintegration of our culture at times. Less in person chats at coffee houses, more following on Twitter or 'friending' someone on Facebook. At my office, every web developer has an iPhone, and people can't even walk to the printer without having their phone in front of their face - as though it is a compass to navigate around an office making zombies of us all.

Moments like this though - spontaneous connections made through online and unlikely to happen in the 'real' world - that is the power of this tool and our modern technological age. It is remarkable to try to think how a granddaughter of a late artist would be connected with a woman on the opposite side of the country researching a painting she perhaps purchased / saw in small local gallery. Wild. Humbling. Very, very cool.

More updates to follow as I gather additional information on the painting and other pieces of work by Frances.

Quirky on Good Day New Mexico / KOB TV

Ah, small claims to fame...

This morning on KOB's Good Day New Mexico, a previously taped interview is airing highlighting me discussing online marketing services provided for Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta.

Specifically, in May we launched a social marketing campaign to compliment the existing paid search, email marketing, and analytics services. The results have been very strong - high engagement and measurable ROI (taking online surveys, buying merchandise, growth in quantity of Facebook fans, etc.).

The interview airs today at 11 am MST but will also be accessible on http://gooddaynm.kob.com/ for the next month.

Beauty in the Breakdown

It is time to let go, and let your internal compass guide you.

Those instincts that scratch at your sides.
Heaviness sitting on your chest
as you try to fall asleep,
making it hard to breathe.
Nagging. Tugging.
Chaffing. Weight.
Thoughts of 'what if'.

I can't find peace of mind
looking to prose and poetry
neatly organized into numbered chapters
to point to a clear path.
Or sitting on benches
looking onward
as one directs the masses
from a far off, pristine pulpit.

There is chaos in this world
with energy and magic.
Spontaneous connections. Sparks.
Encounters not missed.
New faces. Connections.
All around us. All the time.

I am the welder.

I understand the capacity of heat
to change the shape of things.

I am suited to work
within the realm of sparks

out of control. I am the welder.

I am taking the power

into my own hands.

— Cherrie Moraga
This Bridge Called My Back

Things I'll miss about Albuquerque...

We are almost a month away from moving to Austin, TX. As the date nears, I'm taking a more discerning look at Albuquerque and appreciating all this area has to offer.

I've lived in Albuquerque for the past three years of my life. It was a bumpy transition from Chicago to here in 2006 - Mike and I had just been together for a few months and were moving in together in a new town, I had just left a group of amazing friends, a great job, and found my self in the land of adobe, tumbleweeds, kitche Route 66, and vistas without a clue how to make it all work. To add some 'spice' to my situation, I additionally had a health issue that emerged (while w/out health care) and my mom in Maryland was diagnosed with breast cancer. A lot for anyone to stomach, let alone all at once in a new and unusual area.

It takes a really grounding place to keep one's life stable during a turbulent time. One by one, each of life's dilemmas worked themselves out, and through the process I started figuring out what matters: enjoying life, being kind, having fun, adding value to others' lives, and not taking oneself so seriously.

Finding myself was part of the process. Literally I also morphed into a different twist of me - pescatarian for almost 2 years, agnostic, flaming liberal, second tattoo, etc. This area helped me sift out some things I wanted and didn't want to be moving forward.

Things I'll miss about New Mexico the most or just general Albuquerque classics:

• The mountain - how humbling to wake up to a snow-capped mountain and understand why it is called Sandia (watermelon) at sunset each day.
  
• Artwork - the city oozes with creativity and quirkiness. Whether giant-sized sculptures of Paul Bunion, murals, carved tree stumps in a sunflower field, to day of the dead folk art, it is hard to not feel inspired here.
• Balloons - every morning around sunrise the horizon is speckled with gumdrops ascending towards the sky or gently floating down towards the Rio Grande and tree tops. Around Balloon Fiesta, you become accustomed to laying in bed and hearing the primal hissing sound of gas burners guiding a balloon over your house. Or watching colorful shapes morph and grow out of fields to then ride an invisible escalator to the sky - gorgeous.
• Outdoors - whether hiking Tent Rocks, La Luz trail, Pecos river-side camping or even up around Durango, this region is gorgeous. I hope it remains a secret and the people who think it is in Mexico, remain thinking they need a passport to get here and never come.
  
• Quirky - Albuquerque is brilliantly weird and understanding its charm is something earned not given away. Small mountain towns in Madrid and Tijeras with funky saloon bars... colony in Taos of hippie Earthship dwellers... alien influences at Roswell or Taos hum... monster trucks, roadrunners, haunted Press Club... it's all here, you just gotta find it.
  
• Food - smoked green chile is divine. Breakfast burritos are an art form. Pinon coffee - delightful. And it all tastes better looking at the amazing views in town.

I could go on forever with this list. Albuquerque is special. I hope Austin will be equally as queer and brilliant. There's one way to find out... that reminds me, I better get back to packing.

Cryptic 4th

The pomp and circumstance associated with the 4th feels ill-suited to me now that I reside in the Southwest.
(Picture at right: http://www.joshuahoffine.com/)

Growing up outside of DC, it was hard to not feel as though you're part of the political machine. On a middle school field trip, we stood next to Hillary Clinton and heard her address a small crowd on the Hill. When you live near DC, you ooze with self-importance because you feel so close to it all - or maybe it is just the East Coast attitude.

In Albuquerque, local news usually isn't national / international news, and I feel more in touch with the real roots of this country - the people who founded it after crossing over the Bering Strait and lived in harmony nature and the land.

When driving home from work the other day, I passed a private school on Paseo del Norte with a sign posed out front, 'Happy Birthday America'. This sign reminded me of East Coast culture and relative perspective on our country's history. It didn't dawn on me until visiting Santa Fe and enjoying local history, that I realized how my childhood field trips to Williamsburg and Jamestown pail in comparison to our Country's true founders - conquistadors, native tribes, etc.

Although I 'get' the fun associated with the 4th - watching fireworks and sitting on lawn chairs imported from Shanghai, drinking a beer brewed in Mexico - like Thanksgiving, I find it hard to get puffed up over this holiday.

Tattoo Numero Dos - phase 1

Several months ago, I started planning my second tattoo.

As a 'martini woman artist', I've always wanted to incorporate elements of my artwork in a body art piece. I wasn't sure how to make it work, until I started falling in love with Day of the Dead artwork. To me, I interpret this folk art as a celebration of those past and a reminder to live each day to its fullest.

So, I developed a sketch of me / my artsy patron saint (my Grandma) as a cay-eyed day of the dead martini woman. I lack formal training in sketching, and my original drawing lacked much detail as compared to phase 1 of the tattoo (pictured at right) that I just went to Albquerque's own Custom Tattoo. The gap in the smile is intentional - both Frances (Grandma) and I have a gap.

I determined I wanted rib placement, went through a consultation, and made appointment number one to get the piece (which I chickened out and cancelled day of). After another round of thinking it through, I put down another deposit and gathered myself for the actual appointment (this past Tuesday night).

Three hours of tattooing on your ribs, well, hurts. The first two hours I was doing remarkably well handling the pain and "sitting like a rock" as my artist told me. Hour number three didn't go so well and included wincing, twitching, sweating, and squirming. I made it through the majority of the tattoo except for a section of hair on the figure and Manny still needs to go back in with white for highlights. He anticipates the second appointment will take roughly an hour to do touch up and final work *fingers crossed*.

Oh, odd fun fact - I've been banished to our second bedroom in the house, because I'm not allowed to sleep in the same bed as the pugs. Dogs like to lick the ointment off of tattoos and you can get ringworm from it! GROSS!

Bearded Women Santos

Since childhood, I have been fascinated with the traveling circus. My grandmother, an artist, used to do etchings of circus scenes, and when I discovered painting as a hobby I found myself deeply connected to portraying myself as a jester. In college I took several feminist studies courses and was required to write a thesis on an area of interest. I wanted to study women's role in early traveling freak shows (a topic I hope to explore more in depth later in life). I narrowed focus to Venus Hottentot, an amazing woman stolen from Africa to be in a circus act. Today, I still collect books, vintage circus posters, and scour antique stores for circus items like clown barrels or performers' trading cards.

Last night, in Tijeras, New Mexico, population 474 at the 2000 census, I enjoyed seeing a proud bearded woman at a bar, Molly's. Side note, sign above the door at Molly's reads, "The Greatest People On Earth Walk Through This Doorway." Wearing relaxed jeans with torn holes on the knees, a broad rimmed hat, and loose fitting shirt, she sat back and enjoyed a few beers with friends while listening to the band. Her beard, perhaps a badge of feminist pride, tumbled in shades of grey at least ten inches from her chin (note: Guinness World Record holder is Vivian Wheeler; in 2000, her beard was 11 inches long). I, an outsider in this towny bar, appreciated in the back mountains of Albuquerque, she had a home where she was appreciated.

The experience sparked curiosity as to the role of bearded women in culture. Within merely a half hour of scouring the Internet, the prevalence of references to mystical or saintly roles of bearded women impressed me.

July 20 or January 20 tend to be Saint days that celebrate bearded women:

• July 20: Santa Librada/St. Liberata Patron of liberated women because she grew a beard, she is revered in New Mexico as a Penitente saint, as she was crucified by her father for disobeying his wishes. Source.
• The festival of Saint Paula the Bearded is still celebrated every January 20th.
• July 20th is the Feast of St. Wilgefortis, she was the daughter of the King of Portugal and another rumored Bearded Lady.
• 14th century Spanish nun - and bearded woman - was sainted.
• St. Uncumber [or Wilgefortis] July 20th ORC, a bearded woman saint, also known as St. Liverade (France), Liberata (Italy), Liberada (Spain), Debarras (Beauvais), Ohnkummer (Germany), and Ontcommere (Flanders). She was often represented as a bearded women on a cross. Source.
  
  

Literature and arts from previous centuries portray bearded women often with special powers:

• In the chapters 40 and 41 of the second part of Don Quixote, the Dueña Dolorida and other ladies wear fake beards. They tell Don Quixote that the beards are the result of an evil charmer, and the knight has to ride Clavileño to undo the charm. Source: Wikipedia.
• In the fifth century B.C.E. Hippocrates himself documented a bearded priestess named Athena. It was believed that her beard empowered the priestess with special clairvoyant abilities.
• A famous painting in Toledo, Spain at Hospital de Tavera features Ribera's unusual portrait of a bearded woman. Source.
  

Beyond religious and arts references, feminists have entire schools of thought dedicated towards the role of body hair and women. They contend there is no biological or hygienic reason for women to remove body hair, yet most women do with harsh chemicals, sharp blades, and expensive removal treatments. Women's body hair has political implications - shaving legs / not, how hair is styled, armpit hair, pubic hair... Emma Chaplin wrote an interesting blog entry on this topic that is worth browsing.

On a final note, I enjoyed a YouTube video of a woman with a beard who thoughtfully encourages everyone to, "just be yourself."