Once more, the Mercado de San Juan de Dios is transformed into a wonderland as the Christmas marketplace is open for business.
Extra booths have been erected around the market and they are filled with ornaments, Nativity figures and accessories, decorations, Baby Jesus figurines of many hues and sizes (and gorgeous gowns of swaddling clothes), garlands, pines, sparklers, elf costumes, devil’s pitchforks, cuetlaxochitls, Santa caps, treats, and holiday fantasies.
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The Jardin Principal, the towering Christmas tree, and the surrounding streets have been well-lit for the holidays since Dec. 6, That was the night of our first thunder-and-lightning drenching in weeks.
Timing is everything.
And the rains cooperated, stopping within minutes of the official Christmas tree lighting ceremony and the accompanying fireworks. (What would a tree lighting ceremony be without fireworks? Well, in San Miguel, what would any event be without fireworks?)
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The sculpture is called “Sol” by Colombian artist Edgar Negret, a pioneer in abstract geometric sculptures.
You can find it on the entrance grounds of the Rosewood Hotel San Miguel, a spot where they seem to favor large works of art that pulsate in a light wavelength between 610 and 780 nanometers.
The previous sculpture there was called “Britannia” and it was just as red.
It works, too.
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2. He’s still in the race? How can half the people still think this guy is good for the country. … Lies! Lies! Lies! … Did you hear what he just called Kamala Harris?!? I think I’m going to be sick …
3. And the last voting booths are closing in 5 … 4 … 3 …
So sorry. It was either do this or go out of my freaking head.
Since ALL of my friends are supporters of democracy, decency, and Kamala Harris, I wish you a very happy Election Day.
PS: If you can think of some different captions, post them in the comments section below! Thanks for playing along in 2024!
OK, I can sit here all night and write about the beautiful Catrinas and Catrins. About the amazing make-up jobs and costumes. About how people came from all over the world just to parade from Calle Cordo to the Ancha to the Jardin in Centro.
Did I mention this is San Miguel de Allende, the most magical city in the world?
No, I didn’t. And I won’t go on because this is one time, my friends, when pictures speak way louder than words.
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The Day of the Dead has begun, in the most beautiful ways imaginable.
This morning dozens of people, young and old, arrived at the Jardin Principal to build large public oftendas, the altars that pay tribute to family, friends, classmates, motorcycle and Rotary club members — our loved ones who have passed away.
It is a beautiful and heartwarming thing to watch.
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The Catrina face-painting tag team, Efrain Gonzalez and Laura Cerroblanco, launched their season with a party on Friday at Restaurante Lolita at Salida a Celaya #52.
It was a chance to learn a little about Dia de Los Muertos, watch the dynamic duo paint some faces, hear some fine music from Gabriela Espinosa and Sharon Itoi, enjoy a dinner prepared by Chef Fernando Guarneros, and reconnect with some old friends and make some new ones.
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We love our mojigangas.
The tall, human-fueled street puppets have been around San Miguel de Allende since 1924. They are of as many varieties as there is of life.
They can be comic, satirical, political, nuptial, magical, tragic, whimsical, mystical, surreal, fantastical, scary, devilish, angelic, familiar, historical, sexy, skeletal, ethnic, gypsies, tramps and thieves, and even, ordinary.
Like those images above from a recent parade in San Miguel.
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It is that time of year. The skeletons in our closets find their way to the streets of San Miguel de Allende.
Not those skeletons.
These are more literal.
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We once lived in a house that had a 360-degree view of San Miguel de Allende from the rooftop.
We still live in the house but the view is mostly gone.
In its place is a three-story condo project that wraps around the two sides facing Centro, the Parroquia, and the sunrise. It would be oppressive were it not for the chiffon yellow paint job. Chiffon yellow tends to soothe.
At any rate, this picture is not about that.
This picture was taken many blocks away on the top floor of the Posada de Las Monjas hotel on Calle Canal. Twice a week I climb the Escher–like staircases to the top to take Pilates. The walk to the studio is almost as grueling as the class. But obviously worth it.
And I’m not just saying that because the instructor is my wife, Rose Alcantara.
This is the view from the studio.
On Monday , we were expecting a late-season shower. The clouds to the West looked promising. They apparently had business elsewhere. All we got were sprinkles.
And a spectacular view.
Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 