In
case you haven't heard, some of my artwork (and my novels, and a
magazine article I wrote and illustrated about the PreColumbian ball
game) are on display in Omaha, Nebraska. They're in an exhibition
called Mariposas: Brown and Native Contemporary Artists in the Path of the Butterfly at the
Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts. This is because Josh Rios and
Anthony Romero included them in a project they call Is Our
Future a Thing of the Past?
Thanks
guys. I appreciate the support.
I'd
also like to thank Josh for recently introducing me to the term
Xicanxfuturisma. I like the alien look of it. It will be useful.
Meanwhile,
here's some background on the pieces displayed:
Evening
Spirits is a drawing in Crayola
crayon (they suit my drawing style, and I like the idea of using
non-fine art materials with a childish reputation). There's a calaca,
or calavera if you want to be more formal, in Native-style,
shamanistic clothing, sitting before a bowl of something possibly
edible. He raises a bottle of an alcoholic or otherwise mind-altering
beverage to a goddess who is manifesting in the smoke spewing from a volcano. The calaca looks like my fabled Calacanaut, and maybe
a relative, or more earthly/spiritual incarnation.
Señor
América (the accent is in the
wrong place in the drawing--I do that, dyslexic mestizo that I am)
rendered in red Crayola with a yellow grease pencil for the blazing
sky. This sombrero-wearing calaca looks like the one from Evening
Spirits, but was drawn years
later. We are all skeletons under the skin. He stands
at the border, kind of like one of Frida Kahlo's famous paintings.
One side is cosmic with a meteor/comet thing, and a flame-crowned
pyramid, the other is a factory that is mostly smoke-stack. He has fangs
and sticks out his tongue.
High
Aztech Scene was drawn when I
was writing High Aztech.
It was first sketched in yellow grease pencil, then finished in black
grease pencil. Xolotl Zapata clutches his zumbador and is watched
over by skull-faced disease-spirit who is armed with a flaming
test-tube, while rioters attack a tank. Coatlicue oversees like a an
intellectual kaiju. The mood and some of the ideas from the novel are
suggested, like a postmodern cartoon/hieroglyph.
Galactic
Aboriginie Journal is one of my
battle-scared sketchbook covers from back in the days when I was
struggling, and not sure if my efforts would ever amount to anything. I was
trying to merge the primitive with the modern. We are the aboriginies
of the galaxy. The lettering and drawing were done with the stopper
top of an India ink bottle. I collaged an idol by drawing crude
designs on a fashion model's hair and giving her an animal mouth,
mounting her on machinery, with a car loaded with a typical American
family for a body. Instead of breasts there is a fortune cookie
prediction: “Unexpected gain. A new friend in the near future.”
High-Tech
Voodootoons is another decaying
sketchbook cover. The title is a good description of what I do, whether
I'm writing or drawing. The snake head was made from the logo of a
package of typewriter paper. (Uh-oh, do I have to explain what a
typewriter was?) Once again I was drawing with the stopper from an
India ink bottle. The sailing ship was part of the original
sketchbook cover. The barcode was from typewriter paper. I like the
way these things have gotten so bashed-up, looking like artifacts
from some strange, ancient, lost civilization, and how any
explanation can never convey to whole truth.
Everybody's
future becomes a thing of past, eventually. All our cultures are
tomorrow's archaeology.
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