About Attaining Dreams

I feel like I am recently talking more and more like an old woman, but I will say it anyway: when I was young I didn't know what I had. I had freedom, flexibility, health, beauty, intelligence. And I spent most of my time depressed, sad, without a clear path or purpose. It might have been the city, because, before New York, I was normally happy, skating and biking and talking with friends in the corner of our quiet street. I should have fought with teeth and nails to stay, but I didn't. And it took me a long, long time to recover. But I did not fight because, even then, I knew what I wanted. I had my plan laid out. I would graduate high school, go the Art School in Old San Juan and become an artist. New York, after all, is art city, and I thought I would do the same here.

Unfortunately, it did not work out the way I thought. I got too depressed in the process to even take advantage of the opportunities. I might have had everything, but I could manage only school. Living and art  were not quite a part of the New York deal. So I started looking for ways to be less unhappy, like boyfriends and any job that was not teaching.

The older I get, the more I realize how much time I wasted and how long I spent lost in the mists of this city. Having a child helped me get over the haziness, and getting sick woke me up. Still, I find it hard to manage sometimes, and am mostly hidden away in my studio. It is the place where I feel most comfortable, and hours go by so fast every day, I often wonder how I managed to waste so much time in the past, but nowadays it's gotten better. I might have my bad moments, but there is a drive and a hope in me that helps me get over the bad times. It has to do with being able to hide in my studio whenever I need and for as long as I need. Little by little, my life is mine again. Too bad the nice virtues have deteriorated...

The key to this "new" (by now, I guess, old...) state is working with what I have. I have no desire for degrees, or grand trips (unless they are art-related) or large toys. I just want to be here in stillness and do what I do. And what I do is really the synthesis of what I have done in the past as I looked to realize my dream.

Until about 2006, I would think of a "new career" every time I hated my present life. For a couple of months I wanted to be a make-up artist. I also wanted to be a counselor because my experience at Boricua College showed me I am pretty good at giving tons of advice that most people don't follow. (Good for them!!) I wanted to do a Ph.D. in Art History because I had promised the Mellon Foundation I would and I like to keep my promises. But Art History involves libraries, and unless it is the Public Library, where there is some noise and liveliness, I get depressed in libraries. There might have been a few more of these dreams, until one day I thought I was getting too old for that. I had lots of experience and what I really always wanted to do was art.

So  I reviewed my arsenal: I could write because I wrote tons of art history papers in college; I could listen to people and interpret what they feel and want, so I can create commissions; I could teach because I have an art education degree and you get better at any teaching type as you get older (young and petite teacher do not inspire any sort of respect in Junior High students...) and I could learn everything new I needed to learn by reading books, since that's what I used to do in college anyway.

I think that by the time you are 30 or so, if you have somehow managed to survive and make a living (even a bad one) you will have a ton of skills that you can use and that are free (except for the blood and tears you already paid for them...)

So ever since then, I have been much happier, saved more than $100,000 in tuition and focused on growing the skills I possessed already and applying them to realizing my dreams. I can now report that half a million people visited my Ángeles y milagros site last month, that I called a contractor to build a bathroom in my studio so I can be here longer, and that, while I may not paint every day, my artwork is the center of my everyday work. I have no debt, I have my family, and I have enough. And that's more than good for me.

In my not so humble opinion, to make life work All you really need to find out is what your dream truly is. Chances are you are already halfway there, and need to work less to attain it than if you start working on a new, spur of the moment, frustration induced, transitory dream. Unless you want a complete change, but that's definitely not my area of expertise.

Sitting at the Library

After the workshop, with José, Vilna and a mother and daughter. Me and my embroidery.

The exhibition is finally home, with good memories about sitting with it at the Bronx Library Center during the month of April.

I was there for three of the Saturdays of the past month, and even though I thought it would be a quiet time and that I would get to read and see the books in the collection that the gallery-room holds, I got to see may be two. Many people visited and many came to stay and talk, and many more are regulars of the special room.

There was Vilna, who must be in her 70s. She spends all her time at the Library or at free events, from what I could tell. She used to be a teacher. Now she is homeless, lives in a shelter. It was shocking to find this out because nothing about her would make you guess. Only that she seems lonely. The first day, for the opening, she kept asking me what I planned to do. Then the first Saturday she asked again. I was just planning to be there, but offered to teach her how to make a book. So we planned for the following Saturday and I brought in the supplies for the workshop. She made her book and was extremely happy.

There was also José, a guy who seems to posses a wealth of information about all kinds of topics. He used to make classical guitars. He first got involved in writing poetry when he saw Pedro Pietri perform the Puerto Rican Obituary. He lived at some point in Hawaii and now makes wooden figures of Hawaiian traditional images. I forgot how they are called. He goes to college for his B.A. and receives disability. But he seems pretty normal to me. In fact, he saved me from the terrors of the Bronx.

The day José saved me, we had a poetry reading. It was the last Saturday. I spent the afternoon at the library, and then stayed for the reading. It was sort of a closing for the exhibition, although I didn't know about my participation until the day of the opening. During the day, another of the regulars appeared. His name is Robert, a really tall and skinny guy who seems to have an alcohol problem. He had some sort of drama about the librarian giving him a poem to read that night. Me being me, I tried to make him comfortable and commented on his reading, and said just do what you are doing and it will be fine. Then he wanted to do one of my poems and I lend him a book. Then he wanted to keep the book and I told him no, that was the only copy. Then he thought we had some kind of affinity, which we did not. So he decided to wait for me after the reading and ask my phone number. Since I told him no he gave me his... and friended me in Facebook, and in my other blog he subscribed to everything, and liked my page, and sent a Linkedin request. That night I felt truly afraid that he was going to follow me to the train station, so I asked José to walk with me. Relief... since Robert was still there when we exited the room. I think I heard José say that I probably have another 5 stalkers. But he said it so low and I was not going to ask what he said again. I hope I don't have any more stalkers.

This all reminded me too much of my younger years in the Bronx, where I used to live. A guy once gave me his phone number in that same place, Fordham Road. We talked on the phone. He had just come out of jail, he had been given terrible news as he came out. He was HIV+. He was depressed. I promised to call him back and meant it, but never did. I have always regretted that may be my inaction made him not tell the next girl. It has always bothered me, and that night I remembered that scene of my life that I don't want to remember. And Robert scared me back to those times, when I felt I could not step outside without some man trying to come after me. I could not sit in the park and I could not even work at a store because some guy would follow me home. Of course, that was a long time ago and I long ago left that unfortunate place to the young pretty girls, but I guess I still got it, only I'd rather not!

The Bronx brought memories like that. Of the scared girl I was when I lived in the Bronx. And at the same time it reminded me of the "normal" life I used to live. When I used to walk in Fordham Road, I never noticed the difference between me and the people who shop and live around there. I was part of that life even thought I didn't really belong. The loud music. The sensual clothes. The barrio style. There were not so many tattoos back then and some stores are different, but it was not changed that much.

In the library, it felt safer, and like all libraries, it makes you forget the outside world. I really enjoyed being there, and being with my artwork in a public place. It is interesting to listen to what people say, people who never meet artists and don't go to museums or galleries. You start learning about how art and life might truly connect. It was an opportunity to listen.

At the library I was both an outsider and a regular after 3 Saturdays there. By then I had friends to hang out with in the Heritage room and had found an interesting occupation in a project brought in by Lynda, the librarian who made this exhibition possible. It is called "Bordando por la paz" or Embroidering for Peace. It is a project to remember the victims of violence in Mexico. You embroider their names and their stories, so that they are remembered, so that peace is called forth within your own heart and into the world.

I established the tradition of buying warm nuts after the afternoon at the library. Then I got on the #4 and transfered to the #6 at 125 street. Back home, exhausted, I felt like I had visited another dimension.

This Bronx adventure was good. The library was a warm place, the librarians and staff so welcoming. It was beautiful, scary-real-life beautiful. I'll be back!

My beautiful friend Migdalia

This is my friend Migdalia's home:

La Magdalena del Corazon Ardiente, pintura original por Tanya Torres esta en el centro de mi sala.  Ella es la atracción principal cuando entras a mi salita.  Le pongo flores todas las semanas de diferentes colores, dependiendo como me sienta o cómo me inspire. Desde que entras al pasillo y vas mirando hacia la sala, la verás. Y cuando te sientas en mi sofá, tienes que saludarla aunque sea con la mirada porque se te presenta con esos colores tan vivos y con tanta pasión que no hay nadie que se le resista a su belleza. La invité a mi nuevo hogar porque desde que Tanya la estaba comenzando a pintar la vi y definitivamente me enamoré de su belleza y colores.  

Un dia me decidí a hacer lo posible por llevarla a mi nuevo apartamento donde estoy comenzando una nueva vida, después de una tormenta.  La Magdalena del Corazón Ardiente me recuerda que yo también llevo amor en el corazón, que estoy viva y llena de pasión por la vida y las cosas bellas.  

Cuando estoy sola la miro y me veo en ella, yo soy ella, por eso me encanta.  Gracias Tanya por inspirarte a pintar el amor, la luz, la pasión y la sabiduría que emana de nuestros corazones.

Y tengo más arte de Tanya por toda la casa.

 Tengo Maria Magdalena con Sarah  al lado de mi bella madama y mi indio a caballo que representan a mi abuelo y a mi abuela. Para mi esta pieza representa mis ascentros africanos y no me pregunten porque pues no lo se todavia.  Estan en el suelo en frente de mi cama y los miro cuando me acuesto y a veces siento que me hablan.  Jajaja...

Tengo a Blue Hair, que para mi representa a Yemayá, la Diosa del Mar, de la que soy hija según la visión de la Santería y a Atabey, la madre del Coquí,  que representa para mí mis raíces puertorriqueñas .  Estas están al lado de la Estatua de San Miguel, que fue mi primer contacto con los ángeles  en mis niñez, y con un canvas diseñado por Tanya Torres con un mensaje de empoderamiento a la mujer que me fue entregado por Rosa Veláquez cuando presenté un testimonio como sobreviviente de violencia doméstica en Hostos Community College.

Estos símbolos son para mi la fuerza que llevo en mi corazón, mi piel y todo mi ser.  Yo no se los significados que Tanya le ha dado a estas pinturas y por respeto no se los voy a cambiar, pero ese es el mensaje que recibo cuando las miro.

Tengo más arte de Tanya por toda la casa.  Mary Magdalene of the Heart está en una pared en mi sala haciéndole juego a la Magdalena del Corazón Ardiente.Tengo a Eros y Psyche en la puerta de mi cuarto para que cuando mi compañero la cierre se recuerde que me gusta hacer el amor con él ( a ver si se anima el pobre, jajaja...)  Todavía me falta buscarle espacio a Cesarea at Dawn porque para mí es muy especial pues cuando la vi me ayudo a sanar de la pérdida de mi embarazo de un mes y medio, y que me dolió mucho aunque era solo un puntito dentro de mi vientre. Y Surrender con su poema se lo regale al hombre que se quedo con parte de mi corazón.

Todas las copias y originales que tengo del arte de Tanya Torres tienen un sentido espiritual para mí.  

Tanya ha podido palpar en los canvas mucho de lo que no se puede explicar con palabras. 

Gracias Tanya
Migdalia  

¡THANK YOU MIGDALIA!

Conéctate con Migdalia, Daliaflor "Espíritu del Bosque" en:
Creadores de Sueños

Looking Forward to Albuquerque

Is this the house I bought? I wish!

There's one thing that is making me really happy these days: I am sending my son Julian to a "Paleontology Trek" this summer. Where? In Albuquerque!

It all started when a group of ladies who call themselves "the old broads" and who I met in Albuquerque last year decided that I should come back and exhibit there. The message was relied through Raquel, and received on this end with a broad smile and an "of course." That was if they organized it, because right now I have more on my hands than I can handle. So Jeanette, one of the "Old Broads" and a very fantastic lady, took it upon herself to find me a place.

Jeanette soon called me with good news. She found a gallery owner who was willing to exhibit my work. But it took a long time for Jeanette and I to actually talk, and I was afraid the opportunity might disappear. It was all during that time I was "losing it" a couple of months ago.

My two extraordinary friends, Raquel and Yari (who was visiting Raquel) went out to spy on the place. Bright Rain Gallery is one of those places in Old Town that sells art and crafts, and that I love to visit. Perfect. Raquel and Yari even sent me a picture of the gallery and the owner, Carolyn.

I finally got myself to send Jeanette a few materials to bring to the gallery. I had no idea what Carolyn had really said, but considering it is a place with lost of different things, I sent a few different samples as well as the Heaven and Earth portfolio. It was all on the informal side, but it worked. Carolyn wrote to me explaining how she liked my work and would be willing to do a show for a few days, but also explaining the situation of Old Town at this time. Recession hit them very hard.

Nothing I had not noticed back in August. So I wrote back with a realistic proposal, and explaining how I work. The plan is this:

"Since my mission with my traveling exhibitions is less commercial and more about traveling with my art and exposing it  to new people, I am more than happy to go to your gallery and show it, if you are willing. In fact, I was thinking that a one day event would be best, which is what I often do. I could do a talk and a reading from my miniature book of poems[...]

The way I support these traveling exhibitions is by selling prints, cards and other related crafts. I would bring them, you sell them, and pay me the percentage you usually pay artists (you let me know.) I think there are plenty of people that would come to a one-time event, considering Jeanette's friends are about 6 and Raquel and her husband's friends are too many to count. Plus my friend Raquel has friends who are professors at the University of New Mexico. I think we can manage to bring in 30 people or so for an event. "



Carolyn loved the plan and wrote back immediately. I think she just wanted to make sure that I didn't expect too much of the exhibition in terms of art sales. Which is perfectly fine since I am only taking orders for now. The paintings, if sold, will be given to their owners at the end of the year.  It is probably not business-wise, but that's how I am doing it for now.


As all of this was happening, (which was great, but since nothing is confirmed yet, I am not quite celebrating just yet...) I decided to look up "summer camp in Albuquerque". Julian's father and I have one requirement for Julian during the summer: he must do something educational that keeps his brain—and/or his body—working. Last year he went to a local program that turored him to enter high school and took him to a Boston university for one week. The year before he went to Canada to a one-week summer ice-hockey camp. It is great when he comes back changed, a little more grown up after these experiences. It takes the edge off the anxiety about his future for his father and I. And he complains a little but goes through with it.

My google search gave me a lot of links, but the first one I clicked was perfect. They have a paleontology summer program that lasts about 12 days and will take him camping, digging for bones and backstage to the Museum of Natural History in Albuquerque. And last but not least, he gets 4 college credits. I feel both relieved and accomplished at finding the perfect program for him. It is truly a miracle!!!

So Albuquerque is calling out to me once more. We have a date this summer, Julian and I, and Albuquerque. Much work to do until them, but it is something really nice to look forward to. And now that everyone in PR seems to think that I had a baby after seeing the picture I posted in Facebook with newborn Nico, and that other people apparently concluded that I bought a house in Albuquerque and am moving there—must have been Carlos's house photos?—I think I will just go along with the fantasy. See you in the summer Albuquerque!!

Love Letters

Mary Magdalene of the Tears, Oil on canvas board, 7" x 9", 2010

Today I got two love letters from two different persons. I'm not sure if they realize how much their words mean to me, but they really do make an enormous difference in my impulse to keep going.

One of my precious love letters of today is this:

"The value of art is to illuminate the human spirit. Your work Tanya Torresspeaks to my spirit-it offers through my lens hope, love, joy, healing, connectedness and ancestral presence. I for one need your art."

I post it because it was posted publicly on Facebook by Zorina Costello. It is as if my prayers are being answered. All I truly want from life is precisely that.

The other letter was more personal, so I don't feel free to post it, but it said that after praying to Mary Magdalene, she found my artwork (above), and it brought her release from anxiety, and peace and joy. That was the first thing I read this morning, and after reading it, it released me from anxiety, and made me smile all day. Just the day before I had been writing here about the July event, and reconnecting with Mary Magdalene, and it was as if She was once again pointing the way.

After this year's tough start, and the bad times that followed, I think the astros finally moved, and I'm feeling more like myself again. I confess to a few more messed up paintings, a plan in the works for the summer (including a paleontology summer camp for my son in... Albuquerque!!!), and continued dreams of a Yellow Butterfly empire... but for now, the love letters gave me one blissful day, and helped me clear the way for tomorrow, dreaming it better, clearer. And Dreaming is no longer easy, because by now I know that anything can come true.

La Magdalena

María Magdalena de las Rosas por Tanya Torres, 6" x 6", acrílco sobre loseta, 2013.

This Magdalene was a comission from Councilwoman Melissa Mark-Viverito to give to the Major of San Juan Carmen Yulín. The little bird is a pitirre, Carmen Yulín is identified with this little smart bird that figths guaraguaos, or hawks. The Magdalene continues to be very present in my life, and work. Almost every week I receive an order for one of the images from Etsy. Mary Magdalene of the Burning Heart, now in my friend Migdalia's home, is the #1!

María Magdalena del Corazón Ardiente por Tanya Torres, 20" x 16", oil on canvas, 2012.

As the time approaches for the big Magdalene Celebration Raquel and I are planning for July, I am thinking of the Magdalene I will paint this year. Each year I paint a new one, or two. I expect to never stop.

Save the date!
 

A Mary Magdalene Celebration

Art by Tanya Torres and songs by Raquel Z. Rivera

in honor of Mary Magdalene

Sunday, July 21, 2013

11 a.m. mass at St. Marks in the Bowery

131 East 10th Street, New York, New York 10003

My friends Marta and Barbara are carving a wooden Magdalena based on Mary Magdalene of the Roses. I have invited them to join us at St. Marks and to place the finished piece on the altar with this year's Magdalenes. I can't wait to see the finished piece, but here is a preview from Facebook:

"Me la traje al trabajo para contemplarla y orarla a ver como termina mi Maria Magdalena." Carving of wooden saint by Marta Iris Rodríguez Olmeda. (Via Facebook)

I think it is time to start painting this year's Magdalena, and to finish one that has been waiting for 3 years, a Mary Magdalene of the Sunflowers.

I look forward to July, to see Raquel and Nico, all the good friends who have already marked their calendars, and meet all the new people who have asked for invitations to the event. One more wish: hope my dad can come this year (jaja, he reads this...!)

If you want a card mailed to you, let me know by email: tanyaetorres at yahoo.com.

Snail mail is the best! Viva la Magdalena!!

Incognita

Wig experiment...  just missing the dark glasses.

 

Musitas

Muse of Red Thoughts by Tanya Torres, acrylic on tile, 6" x 6", 2013.

This muse will go to the Bronx Museum tonight: First Fridays!
6th Annual collaboration with the Havana Film Festival

FRIDAY APRIL 5, 6:00pm to 10:00pm

6th Annual collaboration with the Havana Film Festival. Music by DJ ASHO and special performance by Ivan Llanes & The Cuban Way.
Location: 2nd Floor North Wing

And this one:

Puerto Rican Trigueña Muse by Tanya Torres, acrylic on tile, 6" x 6", 2013

Soon I will paint a muso!

Muse of Baby Blue Thoughts by Tanya Torres, acrylyc on tile, 6" x 6", 2013.

April is my Bronx month...

No, nothing stops me. I might whine, but I keep going. That's the trick, never stop...

Abuela

The other day I was looking at this picture and talking to a friend, when it occurred to us that my grandmother was my age in this picture. That was right before "the message." That's me, semi bald... She used to sew her own dresses, and mine.

I think of her a lot sometimes, especially at night, when I get up in the dark to go to the bathroom. I close my eyes to see even less, and try to feel what she felt alone in her house, almost blind. It is a very scary feeling that takes over me for a few moments. Then I open my eyes again, and forget, and go to sleep. I forget quickly, because it hurts so much.

I wish I had not been sick the same year she died. I wish I had been older like I am not, and had more experience and could understand life better. But the last time I saw her, physical pain blinded me. I did go to see her, and that made her happy. I wish I had stayed longer, better.

Still, that's us in the picture, forever.


***

Updates: I feel good now. Healthy again. Still a little afraid to paint, because the asthma is not completly gone. But what a difference sunlight makes.

Last night I had an interesting moment. I bought a GED prep book for my nephew, and finally decided to make him study. So we sat at the table and began the excercises. We did 20. He said he felt accomplished. He was so happy. That joy you get (or is it just me?) when you learn something new. He could do them, with youtube help. And proudly texted his friend that he was being homeschooled. Then that meant I had to sit with my son for another couple of hours, and make him study for his geometry regents. He was happy too after that. Beginner moms out there: it does not get much easier. The good part is there are no diapers to change. The hard part is it gets emotional. That lightweight feeling of a young child's presence turns into something volatile, and of verying densities. Only humor harnesses the expanding mood.

Hard to explain and hard to deal with, but still in posession of its own fierce beauty.

Cures for a Broken Heart

Goddess in the Heart by Tanya Torres

A heart can sometimes break all of a sudden, without romantic problems or real apparent problems. It is a delicate thing, so especially for artists, it can cause problems day to day. Here are several medicines for whenever your heart gets broken:

1. Drawing
2. Silence
4. Medieval music and chanting
9. A walk in Central Park or a nearby forest
5. Spending time with a kindred soul (your best friends)
7. Buying a wig
6. Praying
8. Smelling good things, like food and flowers
3. Hearing your child's laugher
15. Teaching people something you can do well
14. Writing
12. Sending love emails to your friends before you start the day
13. Going to the museum
11. Drinking coffee
10. Painting muses
18. Reiki
17. Making gifts
16. Sending snail mail
19. Getting over your fears
20. Accepting reality (without losing your image of what you want it to be...)

The bright light of spring also works...

Journey to the Heart

Journey to the Heart by Tanya Torres. Illustration for an upcoming issue of Sagewoman magazine.

Wishing you love of the highest kind and a fulfilling journey to the Heart. Hopefully with a full moon, bathing you in the bright light of love.

A door opens

As the illness lifts, my soul also rises. It's been a tough two months. I still cough for up to an hour each night, although last night I just pre-medicated with the asthma pump. It feels so strange to be sick, I had forgotten all about it.

I have revisited those dark places of the past, but at the end of it all, I received a timely message. I don't know if it was really a message, of simply a memory. Or both. All I know is I was sad and depressed and with no energy to keep going when I saw in my mind the image of my grandmother, and felt the atmosphere of her love inside, all over. In the same time-free moment, I realized that I had been shown how to deal with my present situation. Another lesson in surrendering.

My grandmother, Miguelina, was the person who balanced who I am. I was born of two young parents who, as I have come to understand, married mostly out of me being their circumstance. Not an uncommon story. Nothing I don't accept or understand. But because of that, they both needed  to grow up after being parents. And I was stuck at home on Saturdays, looking at both sides of my feet and wondering why one was uglier than the other. Or looking at the door and finding little faces on the wood. And wanting my grandmother.

Because in her house it was different. I woke up and she was up. The doors were all open and the house was filled with light. She was never in a bad mood, and while she was always busy, she found ways to entertain me and make me feel loved. She taught me to tie pasteles and make bacalaitos. She played Chinese checkers with me and taught me to use the sewing machine. She even had a little house made for me in the back of her house. She was never late to pick me up in school. (I was abandoned in front of the Catholic private school many times by the forgetful college students that my parents left in charge of picking me up. The principal called me hysterical at 4 years old...)

My parents, being socialist and modern, gave me many good things, like a sense of justice, and a lack of racial prejudice. Their endless political meetings on weekend nights planted seed words and phrases that would make me curious to finally -try to- understand them as an adult. And their friends banner-making in the marquesina nurtured my love for printmaking. But there was one thing they were too busy to give, and that was attention. Or I don't remember getting enough as a young child. It is always possible I was an extremely needy child.

My grandmother had all the time in the world for me. So I missed her when I was not with her, but as time passed and I grew up, I was led to believe that I needed to support my mother in her many quests for freedom. We moved for micro-periods to Florida, San Juan, and California, and finally, we stayed in New York, a city I feared intensely. Some time before my father moved to the US and my grandmother stayed behind in Puerto Rico. I ended up in that limbo where you don't really belong anywhere.

My grandmother called me and sent me money, and when I visited, she always cried when I left. And even though I was kind of love crazy in my 20s, she never criticized me or tried to change me. She never said anything, and just let me be. And she loved me unconditionally. Without charging me with guilt. She just loved me and liked me, too, and it was like her mere presence supported my existence. I never thought of it, of course, and only now try to put into words what that really meant. And what it continues to mean, now that I got her message.

That brief thought of her summarized for me how I need to act with my nephew and my son as well.
I need to love them unconditionally. Trust that they will find their own way. Not fight, but be there. Like my grandmother, who brainwashed me by saying "You have to study and become a professional, so that no man can abuse you." I decided to take that last part out of my son's education, and simply indoctrinate him with the studying part and the implicit part: "So you can be free to do what you love." As a little boy I made him recite the path of academia: elementary school, middle school, high school, college, masters, doctorate. Now I have added travel. I tell them about my travels and about the young people who come to stay in "Terrace on Lex". I think I have captured his attention... He asked when it is he is going to visit Raquel in New Mexico.

But back to grandma, as soon as I understood what Miguelina was trying to tell me, I started implementing it. I stopped fighting. I quit trying to work at the same rate. I started to use sweeter language. I completely gave up so that I could see a new way out of this problem. Not that I have fully found it, but I was able to let anger go and keep my most pressing commitments, and let my mind find some resources it was holding back due to stress.

There is an organization called The Door, where my friend Nicole used to work, that helps kids in all sorts of ways to get through teenagehood. I had taken my nephew there about a year ago, when he was having a lot of problems with my mother, and he refused to even enter. He had not yet quit school, but was already failing fully. Now that we have tried for I don't know how many GED programs to accept him, the answer is clear: he is too young. Six more months of nothingness.

All of a sudden, after the message from abuela, I remembered that the mission of The Door is precisely to help kids in this situation. To make things easier, he has a friend who recently dropped out of school. Out of all his friends, this is the only one I really like. He now calls me "Mami Tanya" as well because he hears my nephew say it 10,000 times a day. So I had him stay over and sent them to sign up (last time The Door would not let me in—it is for kids only and confidential.) It is so much easier to deal with both of them together than with just one.

No GED for my nephew, but they will help shelter him from ACS in the meantime, until he can start in their GED program. His friend will be going to the GED program right away. They say they will go to cooking and sewing classes so they can repair their own clothes instead of buying new ones... and weight training for looking good...

Because this kid does not follow rules unless he fears something, I told him I would be happy and nice if he goes there at 2:00 p.m. every weekday. If he does not go, I will have to go to court and report the situation. Hope that does the trick or I will have to painfully do it. Or my mother could end in trouble, I guess. Or me in jail? I have no idea how these things work. But at least this is something he can do for now. Hopefully it will help him mature.

All this means, no art for me. I just barely have been able to keep my commitments: 4 drawings for Sagewoman (at least I did that...), a workshop with 4 year olds, repairing (painting) the statue of Christ on the Cross for Holy Rosary Church before Holy Week, going to my son's school for conferences, helping him stay on task with homework, cooking, an appearance with the artesanos at El Museo, meetings with friend planned long ago, answering emails and resting. I sleep and sleep in the hope of getting rid of this thing that makes me cough at night and leaves me powerless to paint.

Today, Friday, may be art day, finally. I feel lost and don't know exactly where to start. But at least the day is light, sunny, and the yellow curtains in my studio widows make life brighter. Friday morning is always full of possibilities.

Matisse and I

One of the very good things of living in NYC is that I can literally walk to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It is the place where I go when my mind is in disarray, where I meet with good friends, and where turn to for inspiration. Recently, they have had a couple of shows I have greatly enjoyed, particularly dealing with Matisse and his times. The most recent one, Matisse, In Search of True Painting, deals with the painting process of the artist.

I went to see it twice, but the first time it was so full of people I decided to leave and come back. I had just seen Impressionism, Fashion and Modernity, and it got to be too much. It is a beautiful exhibition, with the original dresses people wore for the paintings on display. and that was amazing, and for the same reason, extremely popular. It was a Saturday and you could not walk without bumping into another soul.

So when I got to the Matisse show, the one I really wanted to see, I was exhausted. Still, I like what I saw. The process of Matisse on display, in pairs and in multiples, and in photos. When I read A Life of Henry Matisse by Hilary Spurling, I was fascinated precisely by what she described of his process of, not just creating a painting, but of transcending stages in his art. Each jump was excruciatingly painful. The fear of leaving behind what you have accomplished in order to search for new horizons and new discoveries is something to be feared. And he did it so many times, until the end of his life, when he was horribly criticized for designing a chapel. That was his last project, and I believe that in the end he must have been satisfied. He never submitted to other people's standards and criticisms. He went by the call of his own spirit.

I don't believe  Matisse, In Search of True Painting truly shows his struggle, but what it does show is a close-up to into several of his works that demonstrate how he worked. Around the middle of his career, when he was already famous, he hired a photographer to record the development of his paintings. He was being criticized for being a "spontaneous painter" and through the photos he is able to demonstrate how pained his process was, how he struggled with a painting till the end. They often began very differently from what they started.

What I have not been able to find out is how he got the layers of paint to disappear. Nobody talks about that. I do know that he used to make his wife and daughter clean and scrub his ruined canvases. I have no idea how they managed.

Thank you Great History's Goddess for Matisse, although I would not have scrubbed his canvases, no way!

Art Therapy and Wherever My Mind Went After That

I've been painting "messed up" canvases, those mistakes I keep for time on end, hoping to find a way to fix them some day. They are already messed up, so it does not matter if I mess it up further. And further. I went and bought the biggest jar of heavy acrylic gel and started covering the bad paintings  in texture, and then went a little crazy at it. In the process I gave myself a bit of art therapy, with emphasis on freedom.

I've been feeling so restrained, like the same things that set me free also pull me in directions I would rather not go. But that's what the freedom I choose, in combination with my personal goals, involves.

Not that I am always sure about my goals. I know one that is clear is achieving financial freedom doing -ONLY- things I love. I am slowly attaining it, but patience and family play tricks on me. I am much more patient when I have no appointments with doctors or schools.

But painting unrestrained by the concept of messing up gave me some clues on how I might go about this. Do what your instinct tells you and see how it comes out. 

And my instinct was telling me my dear nephew was not going to succeed in High School, so I encouraged him to enter a program that helps him get a GED as well as learn business and cooking. It is very difficult for me to think that way, the alternative, since I have always been so well fitted to the mold. Which is something I always have also felt has held me back with art. I must have been one of those kids like my own son, who never falls while learning to walk. I hate mistakes, I hate lacking control. Which is probably why it is so hard to find a balance between providing my nephew what he needs and giving up on my own prejudices. I know this program is the right place for him, and it might actually save him from himself in the long run. I need to be patient, and trust that my instincts are correct.

Same with painting. I simply don't recognize myself as an abstract painter, but how immensely I have enjoyed the freedom of these messed up canvases even if I am completely embarrassed about showing them to anyone! I know the language of art, a painting works for reasons that have nothing to do with subject matter and I know how to use the tools and the elements, they are not so bad in that way, but they are unfamiliar, foreign, dark. Lots of black. Lots of thickness. There is a certain violence to them. But accepting that I am creating paintings that have nothing innovative or clever about them, that are just a little game of joyful entertainment, is what I need right now. They are helping me get through all this and see where it takes me.

I have seen the sun more and taken walks to the supermarket and the post office. I also sat for about an hour at a Starbucks on 23 street, talking on the phone, and seeing people walk by. I had to do it after dropping off my nephew to get tested for the GED program. The morning was so difficult. But sitting there I realized that I was able to make the inner velocity I feel cease and that I could decide not to do the things I "have" to do. So I have been irresponsible these last few days  and the world did not end.

Today I actually "booked" a show at the New York Public Library Bronx Library Center. They have the best little room I have ever seen. It is dedicated to Puerto Rican heritage and feels like going into my grandmother's house. I sent a postcard to the person in charge, whom I had met during a book presentation by my friend Luis Lassen. We went to see the room and the current exhibition at the time, and I just fell in love with the room. So I kept the flyer, and the other day when I was cleaning, found it. After a few days, I finally sent a letter with images of Heaven and Earth and a very short note letting the librarian know how I had been there and how the room had impressed me, and that I wished I could bring my paintings there. Unfortunately, I forgot to include my business card... bad me, my mind is not working properly.

Fortunately the work was strong enough, and she looked at my website. I'll be exhibiting there in April.  I think it is perfect, it will be perfect in the sense of how the work and the room will connect. I might bring some books, too.

Now I have to design a card for a theater piece at Hostos Community College. It is so much easier to write here, but duty calls. I think, though, I am going to first check if Doña Ramona cooked something downstairs. That might help the brain...

Last public post

The year began with great impetus, but I'm afraid I will have to slow down. I spent the whole week sick, trying to get myself out of bed in order to keep up and then giving up a few hours later to watch hours of Netflix. It reminded me too much of my post-transplant days, and that's something I hope to not live again until I am at least 90. What really worries me is that every single time I do a show, take a trip, or do anything big, I get sick. It is usually a flu, but the illness is inconsequential. The fact that it happens is what worries me.

As I am trying to stay up to date with all I do, I realize I need to further simplify my life. With the new addition to my family, time has become so much shorter. Just this week it was 2 days dedicated to interviews for new schools. Last week it was doctor visits and dealing with illness of a new child. It is like having a big baby who needs lots of care and attention, and lots of food.  I spend way too much time cooking and listening, what moms do.

Then we also started a new thing, an apartment we turned into a temporary rental for travelers. It has been great, and in one month we are booked until June, but wow, lots of work, worry, care.

Needless to say, with the opening and supporting activities for the Heaven and Earth exhibition, I have done very little art for a while.  I woke up with Nicholasa Mohr's words ringing in my ears, reminding me this is the time to create that body of work that needs to come out in the next 20 years. Sounds like a lot, but it is not. Not enough.

As I stop to examine why I get sick every time, even when I skip the pre-activity illness, I get the post-activity one, I have to come to the conclusion that there is a part of me that does not want to be so exposed, or so physically and emotionally challenged. I am carrying too much on my shoulders, and changes in the atmosphere make my back crack.

I wish I could pack and move for a few months and just calm down, reexamine, but that is not an option right now. I plan to do it in 3 years when I send my son to college.  But for now, I have to juggle and hold on, whatever works at the moment. Perhaps I'll go away again in August and detox. A long way from now...

I wonder if other artists go through the same thing. I thank the Great History's Goddess for my friend Yari, with whom I have been going out some Fridays and that has really kept me sane. I guess the best cure for my illnesses is having a good friend with whom I am not afraid to talk. And this blog, which if it is getting too annoying, I assure you, will cease to be public as of now. Removing the link to the other blog/website, less I break the cardinal rule of professionalism: letting people know you are not perfect.

p.d. This is the time to unsubscribe. I'm going back to letting my mind free with this former-secret blog from this point on.

Heaven and Earth Opening

Part of Heaven and Earth:
Inriri by Tanya Torres, Oil on Canvas, 20" x 16", 2012.

Saturday was perfect! It had been so long since I presented art in New York City, in my own neighborhood, so a lot of people responded to the invitation and came to see the work. I felt like most of my "lives" had come together in this event. Even my friend Ángela came, from my editing life. And our friend Father Frank, who informed me I can go to the artist retreat/residency at Lake George in July. I look forward to that!!!

It was a lot of work, but all worth it. My dear nephew Jean Carlos left me plantada, but I got my son Julian and his girlfriend to be in charge of the "gift shop" and they did an outstanding job. Didn't ask even one question all night after I briefly explained how things were done. Considering the orientation lasted less than 5 minutes, and that I was talking all night non-stop with guests (somebody put a cup of water in my hand I think it was Mercedes, and that's all I had all night.) I give them five stars. Smart people, my wish come true! Plus they looked so cute! I hope someone took a photo of them, but have not seen one yet.

At the end of the night, some of my good friends —Yari, Guaro, Luis, Justo— came over to my home for a last toast to this year of art. We laughed for another two hours and 2 bottles of wine. It was the perfect ending to the perfect night.

I wonder if it was the prayer: I asked that the people who came would leave with joy in their hearts. I think it happened. I hope it did.

Next is the workshop and the Noche de arte, letras y vida. Then the presentation of Breaking Ground. I planned all these activities within the context of the exhibition to take full advantage of it. Sometimes exhibitions just sit there for a month and nothing happens. I am trying to make sure that this one is seen.

I hired my nephew and his friend to give out cards in the entrance to the subway. And La Casa de la Herencia, the place where the exhibit is taking place, helped me give out 1,000 cards. The idea is that anybody can come and see. Art is for everyone.

I still have another 2000 cards for the exhibits taking place during the rest of the year. This is a traveling exhibition and from March on it will go wherever it is invited for a couple of hours, a week or a day. We'll see how it goes. I am still waiting to hear if the LMCC will fund this project, but when ahead and started it anyway. I wanted to start the year big.

If you want a card, let me know. I will mail it to you in an envelope. It's part of the idea: that the card is also a piece you can have, portable art for your desk, bookmark, drawer or mini frame.

I look forward to the rest of the year. Heaven and Earth is finally on the road again!

Mailing Lists

(Actual instructions at the end of this post.)

Now that I have done it, I can talk about it... my fear of mail. I have intense fear of mail. E-mail.

In the past, when email was new, I began using it to promote Mixta Gallery as well as other personal projects. And because there were no specific rules at the time, and because I was young and naive, I got back a few insulting letters that marked me forever. Now, every time I am about to send a mailing, I stop breathing.

But Allison B. Stanfield (If you have to read one at business blog don't read this, read hers!!!) says that your mailing list is your main tool in art marketing, so ever since I read her book last year, I decided to overcome my fear of email insults and grow my list by adding all the people that wrote to me over the past couple of years. I inaugurated my doubled list with the New Year email. Good news! So many people wrote back with good wishes that it helped me overcome my second fear: rebuilding my snail mail list...

Now that email was in place, and that I did not die after a couple of unsubscribes and one not so insulting "don't ever write to me again" email, I was ready to tackle the snail mail list.

As I was cleaning my studio (and still am not quite done) I made a pile of all those business cards, little sticky notes and papers that I had all over the place with people's information. It kept growing and growing, until I had gone through most corners and crevices of my studio. Then I took out all my little notebooks I carry in my purse and then store with old diaries. And got those addresses written there as well. And then I remembered the green handmade "phonebook" I tried to keep without great success because I always forget I wrote Raquel's new address there in order to have it handy. And I typed all the addresses into a word document. I typed for quite a few hours... Then I turned all that into columns indicating New York, Puerto Rico, Florida, International and a long list for the States. And when I was done with all that, I made 7 pages of 30 labels each, and began a gigantic mailing to promote my new show at La Casa de la Herencia Puertorriqueña. I mailed just half of the cards and the other half (People outside of the Tristate area) is going this week.

Why traditional mail? And why also hand painting a few brushstrokes in watercolor in each of the 96 envelopes I just mailed? Because we all feel so abused by junk mail and email that I thought, "I will send a beautiful card with my heart to each person who has been kind enough to send me a card or give me their address." It is not so much about the art opening, since email is probably more practical for that (you can add to your electronic calendar by coping and pasting much more easily,) but I wanted to send a card that people can have and know I was thinking of them. I wrote something for each person. It was really the Christmas card I never send because I am so busy making cards for my customers. And that felt so good! I've already gotten a few Facebook messages from friends who got their cards!

And now that you know all about my fear of email (that has not quite left me yet...) here are some instruction for getting your own email list going:

1. Download your email addresses from your email account. That should be in your account information. I use yahoo, so I went to contacts and, from there, I found the feature that let me download the entire list.

2. Open a free mailing account in Mailchimp.com

3. Build a list by uploading the list you just got from your email.

4. Revise it and delete all the emails that might come back with a well deserved insult. Also delete the ones you are not so sure about...

5. Build your first campaign!

6. Stay disciplined and update that new list frequently so you don't have to do this more than once. Or you might forget to delete some emails and... ok, no more of this!

I hope this will help you get your email going. For your snail mail, do like I did. Send them your heart. Who does not like getting a beautiful card among a thousand bills?

Art Business Advice

As I was cleaning my studio (still am...), I found tons of old notebooks with tons of old thoughts. I saved these notes that I no longer remember where I got, but that still sound like good advice! I wish I could remember where I read this so I could provide a link and give credit to the person who took the time and effort to write such good advice. If anybody recognizes this, please let me know. 

•Artwork should be good enough.
•Identify your market.
•Be friendly, warm, well dressed
•Have 2000 great business cards made
•Portfolio-preferably of commissions
•Separate portfolios for separate styles/mediums
•Never do any work for free, start with low prices and increase gradually
•Offer the best price to your closest people
•Create a set of note cards (to send thank you notes)
•Every time you complete a work, show it to everyone to line up new commissions.
•Ask people for referrals and thank them/reward them
•Guarantee satisfaction
•Never show your customer a rough sketch (most people can't visualize something ugly into something beautiful)
•If a person is extremely picky, return  their deposit and say you are sorry for not being able to fulfill their expectations
•Always do your absolute best work and be enthusiastic
•Make a dramatic presentation (when you show your complete commission to your customer)
•You and your client should be alone
•Devise a price formula
•Give a precise quote
•Provide matting and framing to increase profit
•Keep accurate records

Something useful...

Sorry, I've been indulging in what might seem like an ego trip in the latest posts. I, I, I, mememememe... I've been kind of stressed, and am in the process of cleaning my studio to make room for new things and new visions. This means my mind has been going inwards rather than outwards. Managing so many things at once takes a lot of mind power! But I have a little thing to share, something that happened last month, as confirmation that greeting cards work as a marketing tool:

A man contacted me through email asking if I have any original Puerto Rican art piece available. I told him I don't, but that I could do one for him. He said he would love that, and we decided to meet in Manhattan, since he works in the city.

As I was walking to our meeting, I was wondering how he got to my website. I thought of the greeting cards I sell, and then dismissed the idea, and kept on going. When we finally got together and talked and had some lunch, I asked him how he found out about my website.

He told me that his mother in law and his wife had given him a greeting card and said that it was made by a Puerto Rican artist. His mother in law had bought it at one of those tons of events where I set up my table and itinerant store. It was the Mary Magdalene of the Hibiscus, the one about the gift that is passed on...

The greeting cards and mini prints have been instrumental for me this year. And I get paid for them. Is that what they call a "win-win"?

What have I done right?

This year began as if it were spring. It seems everything is in bloom. At the end of 2012, I got so many good things: so many artworks published is different books and other publications, poetry in the Puerto Rican writer's anthology, another academic book with my artwork on the cover, the invitation to be one of the Three Kings madrinas at el Museo's parade this Friday, several commission inquiries for 2013. I'm sure I am forgetting something. It was so much! And today, I became convinced I must have done something right during the last few years, because to top it all, I got this letter in the mail informing me I have received a Capelli d'Angeli Foundation grant to which I applied in 2008. Incredible. Magical. Was it a test of my endurance? What have I done right when sometimes I feel so blind in this path I am taking?

I came up with this as an answer: I have not complained even once about the things I do to be able to stay a full-time artist. I do not complain about the many hours it takes to network, the difficulties of installing those murals and school commissions, the endless hours of printing and wrapping cards and prints, the toughness of traveling with art the cheap way, the investment of time and soul to get ahead.

I often take upon myself much more than I can handle, but never quit my dream and my goal. When my nephew arrived to officially live with us a couple of month ago, I really had not figured out how much I would need to give him in order to maintain even a semblance of peace. And how much I would have to cook and listen and calm his nerves. I do not think I wrote here about the morning when I had to become a shaman in order not to call the ambulance. The smudge stick I bought in the witches store in Albuquerque helped a lot! I've been exhausted and emotionally supercharged for the last two months. Still, I managed to finish my 16 articles for angelesymilagros.about.com and the rest of the work, attend many Christmas events with my table and tiles, fulfill orders and tile commissions, and answer the growing number of emails I have been getting lately. I am even cleaning my studio and getting there...

When you set out to be an artist or, I guess, any other type of creative, you never really consider all the things that come with that job. I am learning that time-management and undying commitment are essential because otherwise there is no way to stay on top of it all. I feel like that goddess with tons of hands. And although I have been stressed and exhausted sometimes, and especially during the Holidays, I just feel this great joy when I do anything related to my art/art business. All the stress disappears when I am wrapping a greeting card!

I guess that's what is called Grace. If I were doing anything else, I would be quitting by now. I would be in the hospital by now! But this is what I am meant to be doing, so since I have kept at it and am not giving up, I feel I might have been rewarded at the end of a test period. That's superstitious-me talking, I have no proof, but myself. But like I always write in Ángeles y milagros, smile as you meditate. I picked that up from Eat, Pray, Love... I definitely think the old shaman was right and that's what I do up here in el Palomar when I am doing all the things I have to do every single day!

This year begins with many joys that fuel my soul in order to be able to keep up with the challenges ahead. Those challenges include that I am extremely nervous about the Three Kings Parade on Friday, that I have accepted a commission for a person and I need to do a good job! Also, that I have been invited to bring my art to a great celebration in my hometown, San German, for its multi-centenary this year (another trip with art... scary!!!!) And that I have set myself to take my Heaven and Earth artwork to exhibit somewhere each month of the year in different places within my community and Washington Heights for a grant I hope to get... but I will do it anyway even if I don't get the grant...

And last but not least, that I am ecstatic and crazy about the fact that the very first day of the year Reverend Winnie from St. Mark's in the Bowery and my beloved compincha Raquel Z. Rivera both confirmed that we will be participating in a mass for the Magdalene on the 21st of July like we did in 2010 with pieces from my Magdalene Series on the altar and Raquel singing from her Magdalene songs CD, and it will include a celebration with food and more singing after the mass. We want to be with all our friends celebrating the Magdalene on this glorious day. YOU are invited, please mark the date right now in your calendar!!! This means, of course, that I am committed to a great responsibility to be there, and make it beautiful. And this is just the first two days of the year... 

I write it here in order to remember and to share that if you keep at it with all your heart and your entire being, you will get rewarded in the end. Do not complain, smile, and have fun. Do what you want! In other words: ¡Haz lo que te dé la gana y... gana!!!