Jun 29, 2013


Who are YOU on this journey of life?
What paths have you taken that bring you to NOW?


Come join me for this 2-day workshop where we will explore ideas about the journey, the individual and the collective path, the things we save and the things we treasure. I'll share some some historical reference to the huipil, and why we use it for this workshop. Some pieces from my own collection of huipils from Oaxaca to Guatemala will be on display as well.

We're all on this journey together! Bring your own ephemera, all other materials will be provided, including a blank huipil made of canvas or paper on which to begin your own personal Pathmaker. We'll embellish with paint, collage, fabric, thread, found objects and of course, YOUR ephemera. We'll glue, stitch, hammer and wire, until your huipil is ready for hanging. You'll go home with a finished piece and a rod on which to hang it.

DATES: Thurs / Fri, Sep. 5/6, 10 - 3
COST: 1,900 pesos, includes all materials
ADDRESS: Carlos del Castillo 12A, Col. Guadalupe
Please call or email if you have questions. 
studio: 121.0621   cel: 415.103.3028
from a U.S. cel: 521.415.103.3028
Feel free to share this with your friends!

Jun 20, 2013


Today I was reminded by a friend in Antigua, Guatemala, about a huipil book I made a few years ago. Judy Sadlier, who I met last time I visited that amazing San Miguelish kind of city, is helping me put together an exhibition, tentatively titled The Huipil Project. In looking at my website, she had come across Singing Bird, an homage to murdered Afghani poet Nadia Anjuman

SINGING BIRD, altered book, mixed media, 2009
Galeria 6, Mineral de Pozos

In her email, Judy said she has a thing for larks, and wondered if I might send her something more about the poem. Reading that email, I was called right back to the moment I first heard about Nadia and started researching her life, her death, her words, now memorialized forever rather than silenced.

(private collection, San Francisco)

Nadia Anjuman
translation by T.S. Kerrigan

My wings are closed... I cannot fly,
She wrote before she plummeted,         
A creature less of earth than sky,

A lark that bullies killed with stones,
She fell to earth, her music stilled,
A broken heap of shattered bones. 

What gift like hers endures for long
Where ignorance flings stones at art,
And bullies put an end to song?
To choose to sing's an act of will,
She had to know instinctively
A singing bird's the first they kill.

Book cover, SINGING BIRD
Nadia was martyred, killed by her husband for her love of words. This story prompted me to read Christina Lamb's book Sewing Circles of Herat, which was the name of an underground school for women who wanted to read and write when it became forbidden to do so in Afghanistan. Re-creating and re-membering stories of silenced women like this have become my life's work, and the huipil continues to be the perfect container for them.