El Paso: Women's March

Women's March, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

Windy, wet, shivery - not a day I wanted to pile on the layers and trudge downtown for the Women's March. But I did it anyway.

Women's March, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

I did it anyway because it was important to my self-respect that I be able to look back and know that I took actions that publicly affirmed my belief in our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution - that all of us, not just some of us, have inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That we have fundamental rights of self-determination.

Women's March, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

I liked where the march began; I liked where it wound through, and where it ended.

Women's March, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

It began at the Armijo Branch Library in Segundo Barrio and worked its way through that historic neighborhood - where so many El Pasoans or their parents or grandparents first settled in the United States - the "other Ellis Island." The march ended at San Jacinto Plaza downtown.

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Women's March, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

When I see quotes, such as above, from Malala, it is a call to action for me because if a 16 year-old girl could speak out for girls' and womens' rights in Pakistan, what am I ready to do?

Goddamn, it was cold, though.

Women's March, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

To get an idea of how many women, girls, men, and boys participated in the march, the video below shows it getting underway from Armijo:




A slide show of the march below:

And a little Mexican pop to march by in this video:

It felt good.

It felt very, very good.

El Paso: Steps to Nowhere #1: A Photo Shoot

Steps going nowhere, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. November 2016.

November 2016.

On one of several sets of steps going nowhere in Sunset Heights, I spy a photo shoot in process while I walk home from a visit downtown.

Steps going nowhere, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. November 2016.

This empty lot overlooks I-10 and downtown El Paso.

Steps going nowhere, Sunset Heights, El Paso, Texas. November 2016.

At the corner of Prospect and Upson.

This particular set of steps to nowhere in Sunset Heights could be those referred to by El Paso writer, Benjamin Alire Saenz. In Carry Me Like Water (1995), one of the protagonists, Diego, lived in Sunset Heights: "...The part of Upson Street where he lived faced the freeway and the remodeled train station that was newly equipped with automatic chimes." One day, Diego "walked past the steps that went nowhere. He didn’t climb them. ….. At the top of the steps that went nowhere, Diego and Mundo sat among the powdered pile of bricks and drank their beer."

But there's another stairway to nowhere in Sunset Heights ...

El Paso: UTEP: Pink Flowers

Pink flower in UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden. El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

A sunny, warm day in UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden. Pretty pink flowers calling my name.

Pink flower in UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden. El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Pink flower in UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden. El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Pink flower in UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden. El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

Pink flower in UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden. El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

El Paso: UTEP: A Bird and Red Buds

Northern Cardinal, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

On my way back from my first Spanish class, I cut through UTEP's Chihuahua Desert Garden.

Northern Cardinal, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

The light was golden.

Northern Cardinal, UTEP, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

I saw a comely Northern Cardinal.

UTEP, Chihuahua Desert Garden, El Paso, Texas. February 2017.

And some flashy red buds.

El Paso: Some Birds, Alive and Dead

Pigeon, El Paso Library Main Branch, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

 

Sparrow, El Paso Library, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

 

Pigeon, El Paso Library Main Branch, El Paso, Texas. January 2017.

 Some patrons of El Paso Library's Main Branch above.

Below, the flock of El Paso Library pigeons plump up against a chilly El Paso wind:

And a dried dead bird in Segundo Barrio in October, a new addition to the carcass gallery:

Dead bird, Segundo Barrio, El Paso, Texas, October 2016.

Lounging pigeon, Segundo Barrio, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

A fat pigeon lounging on a Segundo Barrio lawn one October afternoon.

El Paso: A Relocation Memory

Packed for relocation to El Paso, Texas. August 2016.

August 2016

I just re-discovered pictures I took of my car, packed with my worldly goods, prior to leaving for my year in El Paso.

Packed for relocation to El Paso, Texas. August 2016.

That green blanket? I bought that ages, ages ago at a farm auction in Missouri. Could have been among a stack of textiles sold in a lot for a couple of dollars. I like everything about it: the color, the texture, the size, the warmth, its provenance.

Packed for relocation to El Paso, Texas. August 2016.

The aluminum frame above and the blue-and-white mattress below? My nonagenerian aunt gave this to me several years ago, probably having no idea that it would serve as my main bed at times.

Packed for relocation to El Paso, Texas. August 2016.

A related post: 

Rootless Relocation: What I Left With

El Paso: Segundo Barrio: The Murals

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

The mural above is across the street from the Sacred Family Catholic Church, one of the cultural anchors of Segundo Barrio in El Paso.

The juxtaposition of the intentional art plus the prosaic scene of freshly-laundered jeans draped over a banister plus the loudness of that #619 - it pleases me.

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

The murals of Segundo Barrio are a draw for internal and external tourists to El Paso. There is a brochure you can get with a neighborhood map and numbered locations on the map, which match mural titles and descriptions.

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

I can't help but compare the influence of the murals in humble Segundo Barrio with the immense Equestrian (fka The Last Conquistador, Don Juan de Oñate) by the El Paso Airport. NOT from a perspective of holier-than-thou, reverse-elitist, "real people" versus the affluent.

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

No, I wonder about the comparison between the two in real, number-crunching terms. How many people actively seek out the Segundo Barrio murals; how many seek out the statue? How many tourist photos are there of the murals (as a group) versus how many of the statue?

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

If I move to a comparison of intangibles - what messages do visitors glean from the statue? The murals? Emotions? Lingering effects, if any? Which of the two say "El Paso" more loudly to the internal or external visitors?

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

Segundo Barrio murals, El Paso, Texas.

For some visual reference, below is a map that shows some of El Paso's neighborhoods, which I saw at the El Paso History Museum:

El Paso neighborhoods. El Paso History Museum.

And a slide show of Segundo Barrio murals below:

Related posts:

• El Paso: History's Long Reach: Oñate 
• El Paso: A Graffiti Gathering

El Paso: Art in the Park - Manhattan Heights

Art in the Park, Memorial Park, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

October 2016.

El Paso's neighborhoods continue to delight me. Memorial Park and the Memorial Library branch of the El Paso Public Library System are in the historic neighborhood called Manhattan Heights.

The housing stock in Manhattan Heights is like a box of chocolates, with none of its contents being an icky chocolate-covered cherry (eww.) Each sweet morsel is a bite of eye-rolling goodness.

This is not to glamorize the neighborhood. The streets within the neighborhood reflect different socio-economic members, which, I believe, is part of what makes for a sustainable, inclusive community that we call a neighborhood. (A gated community is not a neighborhood. It is an enclave.)  A video in a Borderzine series on El Paso's neighborhoods addresses the diversity of blocks in Manhattan Heights. 

Regardless of the financial value of a particular house in Manhattan Heights, or the income of its residents within, all Manhattan Heights residents have equal access to the library, the park, the glorious views, the pleasant walks along the neighborhood streets. This is one of the characteristics of what "quality of life" means in a city.

A view of El Paso and Juarez from Manhattan Heights neighborhood, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

In the video below, taken from the Memorial Library's parking lot, a view of the neighborhood south of Manhattan Heights and Juarez:

In the background, you can hear musicians from the ongoing Art in the Park.

El Paso: "Spirit Without Borders"

"Ánimo Sin Fronteras." "Spirit Without Borders." El Paso, Texas. October 2016. Artist:El Mac.

October 2016.

Look at the man's power and determination.

He's a real person - his name is Melchor Flores. His son "was disappeared" by police in Monterrey, Nuevo León, Mexico, in 2009. Mr. Flores has been looking for answers ever since.

Melchor Flores. Credit: Mac-Art.

His son, also named Melchor, was a tourist entertainer named the Galactic Cowboy (El Vaquero Galáctico), a robot. Below is one of several videos of young Melchor in action:

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The mural, created in the graffiti method, struck me when I first saw it. But I didn't know its story or its artist until I researched the Borderland Jam.

The artist is El Mac. (Miles MacGregor) And below is the story about the making of Ánimo Sin Fronteras, along with its companion piece in Juarez, Juarense y Poderosa. Note that the interviewer identifies both El Mac and "Grave," his friend and fellow artist, as graffiti artists. (The Borderland Jam article features Grave.)

Juarense y Poderosa depicts a real woman named Diana.

Both Diana (surname unknown) and Mr. Flores lost family members to violence in Mexico; both participated in the Caravan of Peace with Justice and Dignity, which passed through El Paso in 2012, en route by way of a number of US cities, to Washington, D.C.

The Caravan's destination was Washington, D.C. because the participants believe that the so-called drug war has not only failed, but it has cost the lives of tens of thousands of lives in collateral damage.

Graffiti art - one form of civil protest.

El Paso: Segundo Barrio: A Graffiti Gathering

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

October 2016.

The day came for me to do the self-guided mural tour of Segundo Barrio. A sunny Sunday in October. 'Course, most days in El Paso are sunny.

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

Anyhoo, I'll publish the results of that visit soon, but first I want to share about the graffiti gathering that a Segundo Barrio resident turned me on to while I was walking around. He said if I really wanted to see some art on the walls, to check out the sumthin'-sumthin' happening right now up thataway and then take a left and then up-aways.

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

I'd kind of had my mind on lunch, but I didn't want to miss the sumthin'-sumthin' about which I wasn't entirely clear, but sounded interesting and time-limited. So I scurried my directionally-impaired self over to the general direction of where the neighborhood gentleman sent me.

Hoo boy.

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

What is graffiti, anyway? 

The Urban Dictionary offers a selection of thoughtful definitions of graffiti, all of which have in common the statement of graffiti as an art form.

Here's one sample:

Graffiti is a commonly misunderstood form of illegal art. Graffiti is done on walls, buses, trains, and other forms of private and public property, often without permission (thus the 'illegal' part). Ink, paint, scratches, and other ways can be used to do graffiti; spray paint cans with special tips being the favored way, since they are easily carried and do not require brushes and other equipment. Note that not all things sprayed/written on a wall are graffiti! Gang markings, crude bathroom writings, and other less artistic forms of wall-markings are NOT graffiti.
Graffiti (also called Graf) is a form of self expression, and while it is illegal, is NOT vandalism.

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

Graffiti gatherings

Back in 2009, El Paso was one of the hosts of a nation-wide graffiti gathering tour - the Pieced Together tour, on which Texas graffiti "all stars" worked their art on 15 unused silos on West Paisano. Two El Paso graffiti artists, David "Grave" Herrera and Nathan "Sloke" Nordstrom, are two of the all stars.

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

The graffiti weekend event I stumbled into was the Borderland Jam. Another notice about it here. And a fellow blogger was there at the first Borderland Jam in 2015.

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

In this interview, "Grave" talks about the art of graffiti in El Paso. An excerpt:

El Paso's climate is heated by the passion behind the people. You get a real sense of modest, humbleness here. The work is packed with a heavy dose of aesthetics only known to our area. It's an El Paso /Juarez thing. You can feel it. No words are necessary. During an 8 year tour as a 48 state driver and artist you learn to appreciate your home town for all the distinctive qualities that make it special. ...

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

This article, about a graffiti gathering in Connecticut, notes the communion of the visual art, music, and tattoo work. Graffiti is an art that one can watch as the artist creates it, as explained by an aficionado:

For local writer and bookseller Ken Anderson, who came out to see the artists and watch their process, graffiti art is about not just the art as a record, but about the activity of creating it as well.

Furthermore:

"What I like about it is that it's so dynamic. It keeps changing," he said. "T. S. Eliot said, 'Fine art is the refinement, not the antithesis, of popular art. Some of the things we are seeing here today are approaching fine art."

Borderland Jam, graffiti weekend, El Paso, Texas. October 2016.

 A slide show of El Paso's 2016 Borderland Jam:

El Paso: History's Long Reach: Oñate

"You will tell your grandchildren: I remember 9/11. Well, we remember Juan Oñate. Send him back to hell."


Soon after I arrived in El Paso, I watched a 2008 documentary called The Last Conquistador, by Cristina Ibarra and John J. Valadez. You can watch it in its entirety here and the trailer below:

The documentary, albeit 10 years old, is as timely today as it was then, particularly when we consider the national debate about keeping or removing monuments that glorify the Confederate Union.

Unless noted otherwise, all quotes below are from statements made by people featured in the documentary. 

The documentary is about some people's vision for a world-sized statue that honors a man who "brought the entire Hispanic culture to New Mexico," a man named Juan de Oñate.  Installed in 2008, the statue stands outside the El Paso Airport.

How to blow off another person's history entirely

• In response to Native American concerns about the statue: "... [the Spaniards] did come; they're here; deal with it; get over it."

How to discount another person's history

By discount, I mean: to reduce its importance, its relevancy, its influence.

• "It's time to let it go [history]."
• "Everybody's been screwed, go back far enough, let's face it ..."
• "Rightly and righteously, today, we condemn conquests, imperialism, colonialism, and human bondage of any form, but we shouldn't go about damning people four centuries ago, who were doing what society did... and especially the idea of Indians crying victim will bring you immediate attention and it also leads you to believe that you have attained the moral high ground, and then to use that club to beat up people who are descendants 15 generations later, seems to me, all wrong." 
• "Of course, what happened to the Native Americans was very unfortunate. It happened here; it happened all over." 

How to whitewash the severity of the history

• "I understand what the Indians are saying, but ...."
• "There was an altercation." [between Oñate and the Acoma Indians]
• "[Oñate] was not politically correct."

Blindness

• "Oñate was a hero of the red man; he didn't come as a conqueror."

Listen

• "We always see ourselves as bearers of good fruit; that fruit is poisonous to other people."
• "[The artist] wanted everything to remain sort of Disneyfied, McDonalized, without really seeing the guts and the gore of history ... "
• "I think the journey [Oñate led] north was heroic, but they had not come to till the soil themselves. They relied for shelter, for food, and virtually everything else on the people who were already there."
•  "When you have someone coming in to your home [and demand scarce resources from you, then of course, you're going to fight back]."
• "[The project] sounded very exciting until .... a glorification of Don Juan Oñate ... the Native Americans were devastated ... felt their roots don't matter ..."
• "You're really commemorating that one group of white people took away the land of another group of brown people. Is that really the great mission, the great vision that America was founded upon?" .....so many of us are part Indian on one side and part Spaniard on another side. So which side are you going to take?"
• "... by focusing completely on these notions that make a lot of sense to you, and making no attempt to see the other person's point of view, that's how evil comes about."

So about Juan de Oñate

The fact is, Juan de Oñate's actions were so egregious, even for his contemporary times, that he was charged, tried, and found guilty by the Spanish-American system in Mexico City for mismanagement and extreme cruelty to both Indians and colonists.

After the statue's installation, the sculptor and advocate and fundraiser, after absorbing so much painful testimony from Native Americans in Texas and New Mexico, said this:

"Art does have power. And with that power comes responsibility. The inhumanity of the period was unrecognized by the perpetuators of those crimes. And we brought it out in the same way that Oñate did. There was a certain blindness in society of that time. And that blindness is still with us today. I had neglected the depth of the injury that he had done to the Native American people. And that point, now, is too late to rectify. I have to suffer this, to carry this, because it's not what I intended for people to get out of this work. I think it's something I should have been able to anticipate, and I didn't. And I'm sorry."

"And that blindness is still with us today."


Related posts

• Bernalillo, New Mexico: The 300-Year Old Promise
• The Peculiar blindness, Part 1: Introduction
• The Peculiar Blindness, Part 2: The "Yes, But" Mask
• The Peculiar Blindness, Part 3: You Don't See What I Don't See

El Paso: Drums Under a Looking Moon

You may have noticed that I've already published several posts related to El Paso moons. Don't know what it is, but La Luna seems to love El Paso because she so often fixes her warm gaze on us with what feels like a special look.

And - On my bucket list is the desire to master some skills in drumming. I even have a drum, given to me by a beloved years ago. It travels with me and all my other worldly goods in my car when I move from year to year.

So how glad I was to learn about Echoes in the Park, a drumming circle that gathers every Friday evening at Upper Tom Lea Park between May and October! The park is close to my apartment, the view is inspiring, and the group members gracious and welcoming.

Below is a video that captures a drumming verse, the glory of the full moon, and the 24-karat glow that warms family play at Upper Tom Lea Park, overlooking El Paso and Juarez.

And because this September moon was so special, a video adoring same, highlighting El Paso and Juarez landmarks:

I am a lucky duck.

El Paso: Afternoon Keys

Esparza brothers, Organ Symposium, El Paso, Texas. September 2016.

September 2016.

While I miss dearly the always-accessible joie de vivre of the zydeco, cajun, and creole music of South Louisiana, I'm learning the nature of El Paso's music scene.

There is a wide and deep river of classical music here.

Organ Symposium, El Paso, Texas. September 2016.

One example of this was the Organ Symposium I attended one Sunday afternoon at Western Hills United Methodist Church on El Paso's west side.

Organ Symposium, El Paso, Texas. September 2016.

The musicians included children and adults, and both an organ and a piano.

Below is Ryan Esparza playing a piece by Liszt:

And below a turn with Mendelssohn by John Esparza:

Here is an endearing story played out by a father and sleepy daughter while Dennis Margheim performs a work:

Allowing fine classical music to wash over one's spongy brain is a not-bad way to pass a Sunday afternoon.