She had never imagined that curiosity was one of the many masks of love. ― Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
La Señora Martinez, she had flair. She appreciated bold colors, fine patterns and lush textures. Her style was eclectic. I admired her ability to combine the contemporary with the folk and the traditional.
The quality of her workmanship, always high. She painted walls by hand, with a four-inch brush, never a roller. I admired her electrical skills. Both her father and her two brothers were professional electricians. She could change out a wall socket, and when necessary, she could fix a ceiling fan. It was not uncommon for her to buy antique table and floor lamps, rewire, fix and/or make new stained glass covers for them, too. Doors, windows and fixtures throughout the house support her Stained Glass work. In her household, she kept the tool box. (She taught my husband a few things about craftsmanship and safety.)
Her hands were in and on everything including the food and the beautiful tables she set for special occasions. She tended to the plants and flowers, the grass, the peach, plum, quince, and fig trees. She also tiled and grouted walls and table tops as well as painted furniture and window ledges. All this was her pleasure.
As it goes, soon after each birth, she hand-made a Christmas stocking for each of her children. Handmade blankets and throws filled most rooms as did some of her rugs. For a time, she took ceramic and other craft classes. She also took cooking classes and learned to prepare complicated Chinese dishes after which she learned the art of cake making and decorating. Her family was the beneficiary of all her curiosities. Food played an important role in her life, her mother owned restaurants and cafés in El Paso. Sunday family dinners at the house rocked.
In many ways she had a traditional life and in other ways her life was extraordinary. A rebellious streak served her well. She managed to raise 6 children, go to school, work, and still have some life away from the house.
She had stories, opinions and a voice; both in English and in Spanish. She was a published writer, putting together essays and articles for several organizations. For years she was a professional editor and translator. She was a member of a Spanish theater group, “Teatro Los Pobres”, where she regularly played the lead roll to a full house. Some of my best childhood memories are watching her perform on stage. At any given time, this particular adventure could include her children. I have fond memories of my brother and I handing out playbills, working the concession stand and being extras in a play. Watching her onstage was fun. About this same time she also hosted a Sunday morning talk show called “Nuestra Hora” where she interviewed Latino leaders. Did I mention, by day, she was a Speech and Hearing Clinician?
She always appreciated fine clothes and fun shoes. A few years included bouffant hairdos and false eye lashes (so groovy). She could sing (🎶…Yo vendo unos ojos negros…Quien me los quiere comprar…🎶) and play the piano. Right now, I am remembering so much about Elisa Abigail Martinez. Despite all this, at home she was a warm-up and crocs person. Oh…and for the record, she often drove too fast for my comfort.
This last week, very quiet and unexpected, while she slept, mom made her exit – stage left. Mom was funny and intelligent, mom was simple and complex. Mom was organized and disciplined, mom was easy and hard. Mom was playful and generous, mom was afraid and not afraid. She was my mother and she was thoughtful and steadfast. “I’ll rest when I’m dead” was one of her sayings. Mom has left the body.
I imagine today, her and dad are celebrating what would have been their 68th wedding anniversary. I’m certain my brother is hanging with them today, too.
❤️🖖🏼
You may know, my mother let me paint her portrait. ↓ She was easy with the whole process, in fact, more than I was. She shared many details about her body and her health, including that she experienced six full-term pregnancies and one miscarriage. I never knew about the latter until then. I learned a lot about my mother that year, including that she was very comfortable in her skin.
Portrait of Elisa – A Matrilineal Study
Casein, Gesso, Gouache, Graphite, Micaceous Iron Oxide, Prisma pencil on Arches paper 45×72”
In 2018 ↓ I updated the portrait because she had a surgery to repair her aortic valve. I added a heart to the right of the figure, with the valve now set into place. They did not perfom TAVR’s in El Paso, though they do now. She came to Phoenix for the procedure and stayed with us for the month of August. I recall losing the car in the hospital parking garage the day of one of her pre-surgery tests. Meanwhile, the day of the surgery, my car alarm kept going off. I was not used to looking after mom. Thanks to an attendant, the car was found where I had left it on the very first floor and thank goodness they helped with car alarms, too.
Shortly after additions were completed on the study, a Cardiologist and Researcher, from the Netherlands, having come across the image, requested permission to use it for his Master’s Thesis cover. ↓ Mom approved.
Upon finishing this post, I am considering adding to the artwork again. Perhaps some tools… #MappingANarrative #NothingInStasis
Photo courtesy of Tucson Museum of Art
In 2022, Julie Sasse, Chief Curator at the Tucson Museum of Art, interviewed me in preparation for a solo exhibition. She wrote about my artwork and my various influences. She wanted to know about my upbringing (“The Early Years”). Julie was particularly impressed by my mother’s story and asked many questions. It was really the first time I thought about my mom in this light. #LaSenoraMartinezHadFlare
→ TMA Stories: The Amazing thing called LIfe, Auguest 23, 2022 in Curators’ Corner, Exhibitions
©2024 ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED BY MONICA AISSA MARTINEZ
Staying in the area, he was able to walk over. He had already mentioned the photo session would move quickly. He was right, the morning flew.
a.k.a. tephrocactus articulatus var papyracanthus
Monica Aissa Martinez 