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."

Sources of Inspiration - Friday the 13th

As an artist, sources of inspiration are all around me. Tonight, these are my top picks for artistic inspiration throughout the weekend...



* Frances Trammell, my grandmother (that I never met) and an accomplished artist. Oddly enough, had a dream where I spoke with her the other night. Woke up extremely emotional. The next day sold a painting (for the first time in two years) and have experienced an interesting trend of artsy good luck since.

* Recent painting I'm working on in reds and yellows - title to be determined.

* Douglas Bean, pug extraordinaire and expert at sneezing on things. My dedicated sidekick. AKA drag queen pug, Deebleton, Deebey, Doug Bug, Ms. Douglas, etc.


* Pineapple Lick, favorite self-portrait. Did when I was 18 in my first year in college. Pineapple 'found' object from thrift store. Expensive purchase at all of $0.30.

* Oates, named of course after the infamous John Oates (Hall and Oates).

* Naughty Face. Me, as a drag queen, of course, putting on my face in the mirror.

On that note. Happy Friday.

This evening's artistic inspiration

I explored my art desk at home to find lots of small sources of inspiration this evening...

paint chips, photograph from Durango trip where I discovered gargantuan dandelions, selection of hand-made cards I've been working on resting on top of a rusted box recently purchased from a thrift store, paint brushes against my Super Friends lunch box with ET lunchbox underneath, napkin art gift from Bruce McCullom, and picture of my Aunt Sally in her teens as a professional dancer seeming to float over a rose garden...

Life's Soundtrack (at the moment)

Feeling very 'High Fidelity' at the moment, I'm inspired to try to determine top tracks that not only represent my life to date, but if I were stuck listening to a soundtrack of my life - what would it be? Admittedly, a work in progress, this is the list of top tracks of my life as of today, March 5, 2009:

* 'Mad Word' - Fears for Tears: 'Donnie Darko', a random flick, now top ten favorite films, solidified passion for this song.

* 'Just What I Needed' - The Cars: It rocks, need I say more.

* 'Crocodile Rock' - Elton John: nod to my childhood, dancing on a trampoline to Elton John (being played on vinyl), often with my rocking pops (Jim, aka 'Doodah') dancing with me at midnight when I should have been long asleep.

* 'Moonshadow' - Cat Stevens: pure nostalgia. Childhood memories + favorite album on vinyl + loving 'Harold & Maude'. I dig.

* 'I'm a Different Person - Turn My World Around' - : viva living in Boystown in Chicago for one of the best years of my life. Honestly. Kyle... best year ever. Rum & Diet, glitter, drag queens prettier than most females, identity, Roscoes on Sundays for 'dance-offs', what a great time period.

* 'Had I Known You Better Then' - Hall & Oates: Where do I start? Mike = pure, ruthless, Hall & Oates addict. We went to show in Denver to hear Oates. He played this song, and it was already one of our favorite tunes, but the experience solidified it. After the concert, I thanked Oates in person for playing this obscure song. To add to the myth of the song, when Mike proposed to me this year, he had this song in the background.

* 'Such Great Heights' The Postal Service: music that helped me find me, and in turn, my artwork. Three of my favorite paintings were developed after listening to this song on repeat. Simple. Concise. Transparent. I like.

* 'Scarlet Begonias' Grateful Dead: Oh, college years. This song fits and reminds me of my best bud, Kate. This song also inspired one of my favorite paintings ever... and somehow I blame this song for me going skydiving my freshman year in college. It's all good.

* 'Can't Always Get What You Want' - Rolling Stones: I remember singing this song out my window of my CRV with Kate, of course, my freshman year in college, roaring through neighborhoods in DC. It not only fit for the time period, but is a good song to keep in my back pocket for life.

* 'Girl from Impanema' - Astuad & Joao Gilberto: Grow a soul if you don't love this song.

* '1812 Overture' - Tchaikovsky: my childhood, my beloved old man with glass of Jack Daniels in hand, simply, honestly, intending to lead to the orchestra through this intimate piece. Perhaps, this song could be, the most appropriate piece to salute my dad, in all his glory? I just love the memories of climax of this piece with cannons & reminiscing about seeing splashes of cocktail in hand conducting an invisible symphony.

* 'Small Things' - Blink 182: Sadly, proudly, I used to 'heart' Blink182. Claim to pretend egotistical fame - I met them at Warped Tour in 1998 and have pictures will all band members minus Travis (drummer).

Such a tough topic... more modifications to this list to come...

Beauty in the chaos

We've lived in Albuquerque for 2.5 years now - it seems like just yesterday I was in Chicago walking up seventy-five steps to get to my tiny studio apartment that had such poor water pressure, we had to use a spaghetti pot with water to help flush the toilet. Ah, memories.

Lately Albuquerque feels more like home than previous homes including both Chicago and even Maryland. We're in love with the weather, mountain views with plateau sunsets, smokey green chile local food, down-to-earth residents, and overall enthusiasm towards life out here. Things have fallen into place for us we feel largely because we followed our instincts to move out here together (yikes - after only knowing each other for four months).

I find pleasure in the small things in life - the random chaos that seems to weave throughout my entire day of lots of small, unique connections if less awake I'd miss. As a web geek, largely my recent 'wow' moments have been inspired by online experience that trickle over into 'real' world.

In Albuquerque, there is a local community site, Duke City Fix. The site was started by a small group of locals that had a vision to connect the community in an online meaningful format. The result - the site is up to 4,000 avid participants (out of a city that is 800,000 residents) and drives real world connections in meaningful ways.

Example:
Last month I planned a networking gig that pulled LinkedIn contacts and invited them to connect in the 'real' world for a happy hour. It drew about 60 local professionals out after work, and was a great success. However, after four hours straight of intense discussions and fake laughs, one can't help but feel a little drained.

On my way out of the bar, a stranger tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a napkin - with a portrait of me on it. It is a deliciously wonderful gesture, something that made my whole night, and the words written around the edges of the sketch were raw - "A night, an evening, time spent, time lost, begin again." I could not have summed up the networking experience better myself, and here, a breath of fresh air stands Bruce McCollum, a local napkin artist and musician in the band Martini Tones, making my night.

Inspired by the interaction, I zipped home and blogged about the experience on Duke City Fix. The post gets featured on the homepage, and feedback starts rolling in. Lots of people in Albuquerque have met Bruce, loved Bruce, and been lucky enough to receive a napkin portrait as well. There's more - a local gallery, Wooden Cow, exhibits his work - both the napkin sketches and the sketches blown up on canvas. Then, even better, Bruce himself catches wind of the online fervor about his work, joins the site, and gets the positive feedback that there are tons of locals who love him. Full circle.

Simultaneously, I enter a random "I love Albuquerque" contest where within twenty-five words you have to write a love poem to the city. I type out a sarcastic entry, hit send, and get a phone call a few weeks later - "Ms. Marshall, you're a finalist in our contest". Oh shoot, should have put more energy into it, and hope I can remember what I wrote!

The hosts of the contest, Local iQ (an independent arts publication) and AIBA (Albuquerque Independent Business Alliance), throw a party at a local Irish pub on last Thursday. Not only do I go, but I of course rally a group of pals to come along with to part take in the shenanigans.

Upon arrival, I run into lots of people that I know, and meet a handful of new, wildly interesting people. One of which is Raine Klover, the owner of Wooden Cow Gallery and one of my Duke City Fix pals. She recognized me from my 120x120 pixel image on the site - small world. One thing leads to another, Raine mentions that my artwork (martini women) might be a fit for her gallery, and now I'm in the process of organizing some pieces to submit for review.

Oh, and to add to the 'pay it forward' karma train, after the poetry party I had a vivid dream that my deceased artist grandmother, Frances Trammel, visited me and we had a long talk about art and continuing to paint. Then two days later for the first time in two years I sell a painting through a wonderful new connection I made on Twitter.

Beauty in the chaos. Wonder in the small details. There is something to say about a city this size filled with people that wear their hearts on their sleeves.