The here and now... and what and why

Complacency is a trap. At least that’s what I was thinking when I up and left the comfort of a Yankee prep school gig, where I taught music, amongst other things, for 28 years. There was also that life long career as a composer, musician and artist.

First, it was a year in St. Thomas, USVI, working as a reporter and shooting photography and then, a year in San Agustin Etla, Oaxaca, Mexico.
Time passed.
More time passed and a year back in the Athens of America followed by a hasty return to Oaxaca where it is all happening.
A couple of years in San Sebastian Etla and now, just down the road in San Pablo Etla. Life is good.

Click on an image to see it larger.
For additional photography please visit my flickr page.
You can find my music on Jango (World & latin - Worldbeat) and at iTunes and most online stores.
¡Soy consciente de todas las tradiciones del Internet!
If you are coming to Oaxaca, please contact me for tours or advice.

Santo Domingo

Santo Domingo
The view from Corazon del Pueblo

The hereafter re me

My photo
Oaxaca, Oaxaca, Mexico
Musician, photographer, videographer, reporter, ex-officio teacher, now attempting to be a world traveler

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Abuelita

Many people I've met here over the years have had a profound effect on me, all for the better.  I have been touched by their wisdom, creativity, resilience and, yes, a touch of their holiness.  I remember first seeing this doña from San Antonino Castillo Velasco in the early 90's as she brought her amazing creations of dried flowers to La Noche del Rabanos.  And then, I saw her every year I was at Rabanos.   For some reason we connected and I always felt blessed whenever I saw her, like I was touched by the light.  I would give her photos of herself and I love seeing the rebozo I gave her in these photos.
I saw her most every year during Muertos and Semana Santafor the last ten years.  I always had to get on my knees to look her in the eyes.

I missed her this Semana Santa and then learned from her children this Muertos that she had died last January.  I told them how much she meant for me, that she was an important person in my life, but they already knew that.  Still, they cried when I told them as we stood by her grave.
And I don't even know her name even though I must have heard it at some point.  She was always just "La Doña, mi abuelita."
(gracias/spixl for fotos)

2 comments:

Bev in Ct said...

Chris
I am so sorry for your loss. You can feel the connection you had in these photos. Wonderful!
was that her grave with the fabulous display of dried flowers?

Christopher Stowens said...

Gracias. One thing that Muertos teaches us is that death is just a part of life, a natural stage we all enter. She lives on in my heart as I'm sure she does in many others. I don't think that dried flower grave was hers. We never got an exact spot from her family.