Eli
Super Nomad
Posts: 1471
Registered: 8-26-2003
Location: L.B. Baja Sur
Member Is Offline
Mood: Some times Observing, sometimes Oblivious.
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Sanding a Little Pine Box
Yesterday, I spent a part of my evening sitting in the doorway of my little Nun like cell, high up hidden behind the giant leaves of a banana tree
watching the clouds dance in front of a growing moon. It was a warm night that signefies that the summer rains have finally ceased, we have had a
great gift of benevolence in the form of rain here in Oaxacan Valleys this season. The Milpas must have done more than well; the farmers surly must be
giving thanks by now. I am in continual amazement at the Earths capacity to soak up all the water that has fallen since the rains began their almost
daily afternoon deluge in mid July.
I sit and sand a little pine box, it is rough and dirty, made from an old abandoned fruit crate obtained at the Tule Market. The box was put together
by my friend and teacher, David. You see, I pay him the small fee of $80 pesos to find the materials and put together these 8? x 12? x 4? deep wooden
boxes. So, that I may decorate and play with them. When stood on their side like a book, they form a niche for all the fun little pieces of lace, and
sparkles, gold braid, dancing beads, little free standing Virgins , saints cards and tiny plastic flowers, lots of glitter, tiny clay pots and itty
bitty woven baskets, little clay frogs, clay moons and all those fun things I can glue into them, that I have continued to collect over the last four
months of wandering the markets and mercantile stores. For me, these collages are one of the sweetest most innocent, fun forms of art, and I feel like
a joyous little kid again, when I play with glue and goodies putting a niche together.
When I first saw this latest box that David had formed, I was disappointed, I thought it was way to rough and rustic and not very suitable for the
little plastic Virgin of Guadalupe that I planned to be the principal idol for this niche. I placed a picture of the clouds and the virgin inside and
set it by my bed.
Looking at this little box before my head hit the pillow, I thought; with a lot of sanding, cherry wood stain and varnish, I could make this work
o.k... Than I turned off the light and lay down for the night, when suddenly, the light went on in my head. This niche is not for the virgin, but for
my dear ol Dad. He would Love this niche, he would be so comfortable with it. So, I hopped up, turned on the light, pulled out a bent up tired calling
card that I always carry with me every where I go. It is the same one that Dave Deal designed for Dad years ago, that same one that anyone who knows
who Don Jimmy is, knows this character of the old Man himself, flying over the Mission of San Ignacio. Yes, yes, yes, I will glue this picture of Dad
flying up high in a picture that I took a couple of months back of the clouds. Dad would get such a kick out of those clouds and this funky old box.
It is just oh so perfect for him: with just a little sanding, so it doesn?t loose it roughness, no stain, simple pine suits him, just a little clear
matte varnish and it will be just right. It will be a fun and wonderful piece of art, a perfect tribute to the Ol Man. I am happy again and inspired,
I have a great project to put my heart into; this niche will in the center of the alter next to my bed, just right for my Dad on Day of the Dead.
So tonight, as I sit in my door way, and watch the clouds dance in front of the moon, and sand my little pine box, and think about my dear ol Dad, and
how I miss him, but of course, I don?t, after all, I am talking to him as I sand. And as I rub, the box with all my love for him, the oil from my
fingers, along with a little sweat and o.k. a few tears penetrate the wood and a part of me is absorbed into my fathers box. As I work, I remember how
he always loved to watch the clouds, his quiet reflections, words left unsaid, thoughts passing thru his mind as the clouds passed over his head.
Again, I think about that Last Saints Day, just a couple of months and a few days before his own demise. His sitting in the Los Angeles Gallery,
hooked to an Oxygen tank, his absorbed quietness as he sat visiting with the departed sitting on that years alter; my Dear Prof. Angel, Don Santo and
Frida. I watched from aside the ol mans reflections, again, words left unsaid; he would never ever discuss his impending journey with me. We both knew
that the time to part would be coming soon, but we could never admit it to each other, not even in the end, it was never admitted, not until that
moment that he got in the jeep and went home in the snow.
Ah well, and now; I am far away from home, but still, they will build him a fine alter there and I will build an alter for him here. Surly, he will be
a busy spirit that night, visiting all of us who Love him. Taking a slug on the ?Corona? that will be left on alters here and there and who knows
where else for him.
Tuesday, I will buy some fun, funky little wood Calavera Dudes; I know just the right ones, they sit on little cork stools, musicians to play for him
and keep him good company, and he will have Day of the Dead bread, and a candy skull and a little candy coffin, and a bit of chocolate that I bought
at Gianta today special for him. There will be a little clay pot with just a tad of copal in there to, and who knows what other delights I will find
on the streets and pull out of my basket of goodies to decorate with for my shinning Knight on his special night. For sure, I will use the little tiny
red roses and a Virgin of Guadalupe card on one side of the niche and San Martin on the other to watch over the Ol Man as he flies in the clouds high
above. I don?t have many days left, but I will get this done. For sure with me; My Pop will have a fine alter, one as rough and rustic and humorous
as him! God Bless Him!
[Edited on 10-26-2004 by Eli]
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Mike Humfreville
Super Nomad
Posts: 1148
Registered: 8-26-2003
Member Is Offline
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Irregular Surfaces
As I read the first part of your story I was thinking you had your dad in the back of your head and didn't know it as you were writing. I couldn't
have been more wrong. He was in your head and heart from the start of the story.
I met your dad on only a couple of times, so I can't claim to have known him well. But we knew quite a bit about each other before we met personally.
I would guess, like your wooden box, he had some irregular surfaces. I hope so. I hope I do too. The friends I treasure most all have them.
I think of irregularities as character. Small irregularities that we discover as we grow up that sometimes lead us off a regular course to think a
little differently than the masses. Maybe that's why so many of us love Baja and Mexico. There is really no standard to march to. It leaves us so
much more room to grow. In a less congested space in many senses.
Thanks for another great story. I hope you find your objectives in Qaxaca and look forward to more stories as you stumble on them. I know the
stories are secretly seeking you out, looking for a worthy spellbinder.
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jide
Nomad
Posts: 245
Registered: 4-9-2003
Location: san diego
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I'd love to see a picture of it!
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Santiago
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3500
Registered: 8-27-2003
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Eli: thanks.
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Baja Bernie
`Normal` Nomad Correspondent
Posts: 2962
Registered: 8-31-2003
Location: Sunset Beach
Member Is Offline
Mood: Just dancing through life
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Sara
Of all your stories that I have collected this one is by far the best. It captures both you and your dad and will surely stand alone with nothing
else needed to support it.
Cha--chinga!
As Mike says please keep them coming. You may not see it but some of us see you growing and stretching a little more with each passing tale. Now a
bit tough and ready to take on the world and later soft, insecure and tender. The mirror I spoke to you about truly reflects a number of people.
La Noche!
My smidgen of a claim to fame is that I have had so many really good friends. By Bernie Swaim December 2007
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Eli
Super Nomad
Posts: 1471
Registered: 8-26-2003
Location: L.B. Baja Sur
Member Is Offline
Mood: Some times Observing, sometimes Oblivious.
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Wow, Bernie, Mike and all,
Thanks for encouragement, and since you have requested it, I will continue to share;
I am back wandering the streets of the city today. Looking for just the right details to add to Dad's alter; I bought a couple of calaveras, but I
fear that all though they have the perfect personalities, they may be to large for the niche I am putting togeather. The good news being if they don't
work, there are other options out there and I can send these in the next shippment to the gallery.
Anyway, I am having the best time putting Dad's niche togeather for him. I consulte him as I go, the embroirderd braid I used to frame the cloud is
black and gold with red roses. It is the first braid that I bought when I got here and afterwards thought I would never find a suitable use for it. Ah
but I have, certainly it is the only right one for Dad, and I wound up with just 3" left over after I glued the braid in the frame, so that proves it
is his. When I pulled out the others and put them to him, "nope Sis" he said in my mind, he wasn't going for them, way to frilly silly for such a
crusty ol Dude, need to keep a little dignity here.
I used a flaky orange glitter for the floor of the box, it reminded me of the orange saw dust type stuff my grandpa, (Dad's dad) used to have on the
floor of his little corner grocery store. Funny, the things I have not thought of in years, that come to mind as I work on this niche.
As I was on the internet today, A little old lady came in and sold me a green chili and chicken tamale, so I get to eat lunch for $5.00 pesos today,
what a tasty bargin!
Oaxaca is full of the tinnest little old ladies, bowed legs, long braids. I have run into them in the super market, they barly come up to my
shoulders, and I feel like a friendly giant as I reach the top shelf to pull down the matches or napkins or what ever is way up there in easy reach
for me, but a challange and a half for them.
As I traverse the streets, I find more and more alters going up, I am beginning a collections of fotos that will also include Dad's alter, Jide. I
just never did figure out how to get pictures downsized so that I can post here. Somehow I will try and figure some way to share them, sigh....
Also as I wander, I encounter lots of Hallowen decorations in hotels, store windows, even the funky little tiny tiendas, and homes. Again I reflect
on my vision of merging cultures and how much I love Mexico and how it is taking on plastic Walt Disney U.S. culture, uck. And well, I can't change
that, and have no reason to complain, it is after all 'An Each to his Own World.' As long as we are not blowing each other up over or differences,
what does it matter, them that want it, can have Hallowen, I, myself, will take Day of the Dead.
Life is good in Oaxaca today. Buena Noches, Sara
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Don Jorge
Senior Nomad
Posts: 638
Registered: 8-29-2003
Member Is Offline
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Thanks!
Beautiful prose. God bless all our dads!
�And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about the rich years, and during the wet years they lost all memory of the dry
years. It was always that way.�― John Steinbeck
"All models are wrong, but some are useful." George E.P. Box
"Nature bats last." Doug "Hayduke" Peac-ck
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elgatoloco
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 4324
Registered: 11-19-2002
Location: Yes
Member Is Offline
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Sara
Thanks for sharing and keep on writing!
Don Jorge
Right on to that!!
My pops is turning 80 November 5th and we are throwing a surprise party in Baja!!
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