Movimiento I

Last month my husband Mark Schlesinger and I moved from my hometown of San Antonio to the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. Almost nothing could be more starkly different from the northern borderlands of Tejas than the small New England town of North Adams. Upon deciding to move closer to family, I became confident that my connection to Mexican culture would continue and strengthen, despite the distance from the Southwest. After all, writing from memory of mi familia could just as well be done here as there, maybe better; and perhaps the spirit of remembering would bring an ofrenda of creativity to my writing. And México is still only hours away, albeit by plane.

Movimento II

My father died in February, sending me on my way with all he had given and left to me. Yesterday, I made an altar for him, some photographs, a few childhood belongings, his old stethoscope, some Tanqueray gin and tortillas, an angel, butterfly, and azulejo, some candles, stones, flores, and a hole-in-one golf ball. I felt his presence around me, as I often do even without these things, and recalled his funny and ornery personality. At that moment, I found a small bit of paper from an old fortune cookie, which captured his sentiments perfectly.

Choosing what you want to do, and when to do it, is an act of creation.

Movimiento III

Last night Mark and I attended a Día de los Muertos observance at MASS MoCA, the impressive contemporary museum located in our new town. Adults and children came dressed as Catrines. We ate pan de muerte and other colorful baked sweets and listened to La Llorona and ancient chantings. We saw the large ofrenda built by community, a bridge in time connecting souls to their loved ones, and a smaller more interpretive altar protesting the loss of souls to the violence of others. It wasn’t the intensity of Oaxaca, Mexico City, or even San Antonio, but it was here, much to my comfort, seeping out into the cold autumn mist. Along the way, I was pleased to meet the noted scholar and curator Elizabeth Ferrer, and to hear about her new book on the Chicano Arizona photographer, Louis Carlos Bernal.

Latinx cultura lives in the Berkshires. ¡Viva!