Art is best left to describe itself.
I’m a firm believer in that.
But I also believe you should let people know where they can find the cool stuff. This, for example.
The beauty of San Miguel de Allende is that you find art everywhere, often in the most unexpected places.
Especially murals.
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Within a month’s time, I have taken two driver’s license tests in two countries and passed both. But not exactly “with flying colors.”
My California driver’s license expired on April 10 and I tried unsuccessfully to line up an appointment to renew it in person. I just turned 74 and needed to take a new photo and the written test (and I incorrectly assumed that I’d need the driving one, too).
The problem was two-fold: My phone number is from Mexico and the DMV will not allow foreign numbers when you try to sign into the system. After repeated attempts and working with a human (I think) who promised to send me an access form to fill out and send back – he/it didn’t — I lost interest.
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She’s right, you know, my new friend from the housewarming party the other night: I haven’t written on the blog in a long time.
I owe you all an apology, if, indeed, you actually missed me.
If not, then, hi! Welcome (back) to my blog.
You know how these things happen — someone starts a blog and it goes great for a while, then a pandemic strikes, and life as we know it is suspended. So the writer begins writing interior monologues, surreal short stories, overly long recollections about that dream from last night, and, in the worst of cases, poetry.
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A pandemic of new murals all over San Miguel de Allende, many with iconic images from pop culture and high art, carry a simple message: Put on a mask.
If Frida, Vincent van Gogh, Vermeer’s “Girl With a Pearl Earring,” Klimt’s stylish “Lady in Gold,” and da Vinci’s mysterious “Mona Lisa” and her Botero-esque alter-ego can put on masks — and look fabulous — so can we.
That’s the hope, anyway, of the city’s Directorate for Culture and Tradition which has sponsored the creation of the 10 murals.
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Just before 4 p.m. on a brilliant and blazing Sunday afternoon in San Miguel de Allende the sound of a boombox rose above the usual bustle and cacophony of the Jardin Principal.
As if on cue, the several venders with their bright balloons and bouncing pencils were swept away like neon flotsam and jetsam on the shore.
A lone, tall, leggy blonde in jeans and a black top stepped to center stage and began to dance. She got the attention of the milling crowd. A second woman, all in black, bounded into the open space and the two danced as one. (Full disclosure: Woman No. 2 was my wife, Rose Alcantara.) Continue reading
Truck carrying decorative stone moves up the Libramente. Also a weird self-portrait.
Many people know that I have a sense of humor that can best be described as “curious.” And at worse, “idiotic.”
Nobody has said that to my face –unless you count Facebook. It is what I tell myself in social situations when I find myself babbling on about … “oh god, what was I just saying? Idiot!”
Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 