No Soy De Aquí, Ni Soy De Allá

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
Cuatro de cinco (4 out of 5) indigenous women have experienced violence according to the National Institute of Justice Report. More than half of indigenous woman have experienced sexual violence  This piece discusses the Missing & Murdered Indigenous Woman movement taking place in North and South America (Latin America, Canada, USA).The bloody hands represent the silence and lack of interest given to victimized indigenous women, many of whom end up missing or murdered. The tears indicate the fear/sadness that I and many families shed when thinking about the lives that were lost and continuing to lose. The hair surrounding the pool of blood indicates femininity and my culture as a woman descended from the Lipan-Apache tribe of Southern Texas and Mexica (Aztec) to Chichimeca tribes in Central Mexico. The reflection within the pool/river of blood of the figure (being myself) that I too, can appear missing one day and it could possibly never go unnoticed or cared for as it would be for a non-indigenous individual. 
According to more reports, Indigenous Women are two times more likely to be raped than Anglo-American white women, and in terms of murder rate, it is three times higher than Anglo-American women. This femicide is atrocious and needs to be solved. Indigenous women are often absent from conversations about femicide, even though Indigenous peoples make up over 15 percent of Mexico’s population. Many indigenous individuals in Mexico face poverty and stay in underdeveloped areas. What does this mean for them? They have access to fewer resources and economic opportunities than other Mexican women, which makes them susceptible to unsafe situations. One of these being Cartels and its human trafficking rings. 
	The internalized oppression of these events are caused by Spanish colonialism. Conquistadors saw Indigenous women as having little humanity. They knew indigenous women could be raped, killed and mutilated as freely as they wanted. Indigenous peoples and Afro-descendants across the Americas were enslaved or compelled into forced labor by the Spanish. They were treated as private property and brutalized if they disobeyed orders. 
Some Black and Indigenous women tried to fight their ill treatment in court during the colonial period, but had fewer legal rights than white Spanish conquerors and their descendants. The subjugation and marginalization of Black and Indigenous Latin Americans continues into the present day.

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
	On a summer day in 1951, my grandfather was born in Sombreretillo, Nuevo Leon, Mexico. His birth certificate was only signed by his mother and the whereabouts of his father were unknown. Throughout my grandfather’s childhood, he found himself finding an interest in luchadores, Mexican wrestlers. He loved watching them on the black and white television and found a love for drawing them intricately, as seen on the ground in the painting. Right then and there, he had dreams about becoming a cartoon artist as he loved drawing people. 
	On another summer day, he was playing outside when he saw a car pull up in front of house. A man came out and started walking up the front yard and greeted him. My grandfather was puzzled as he had never seen this man in his life. As the hour went by, the man finally left and said nothing to my grandfather on his way out. My grandfather went over and asked my great grandmother, Elena, who that man was and she replied, “That man is your father”. 
	A week or two went by and a carnival was in town, his father stopped by at the house and offered to take him to it over the weekend. My grandfather, as excited as any child would be, couldn’t wait for the weekend to arrive. When it did, my grandfather sat outside waiting for his dad to pick him up. His father never came. 
	He looked to his mom’s father, his grandfather, Papallito, as he called him, as his father figure (as seen in a photo of him on the wall). He spent most of his childhood helping his grandfather at his ranch and in his hometown after school until he moved to the United States with his mom.  
	As my grandpa was never the type of person to cry or to show emotion, it was all because of a mask. In this painting, here he hides behind a luchador mask, a mask worn with strength and pride. In the background, a man, known as his father, leaves into the brightness of the day as his mother pleads for him to not leave. This piece itself is important to my family as it displays the ongoing matters of father figures disappearing in the Latino/Mexican community. Not only has this affected my family, but for many others as well. Although these situations turn out to make groundbreaking stories, they are a sign of ‘what needs to change’ for the better. 
	The soundscape used to fill this painting represents the essence in which this painting took me to, back in the 1950s. I used a song called ‘Nube gris” which translates to “gray cloud” in Spanish, where Pedro Infante sings about being a “gray cloud that clouds your path, so i’d rather make you happy by leaving and hopefully changing your destiny”. My grandfather adored Pedro Infante as a kid and still to this day sings his songs. Another audio I used was a still from the 1958 film, El Cerebro del Mal (The Evil Brain), which starred El Santo, my grandfather’s all-time favorite luchador, whom he is also wearing a mask of in this painting. After the movie still ends, small running footsteps that I directed a left to right audio panning to indicate a little boy running away from the television to go off and play. 
In loving Memory, Elena Gonzalez Garza,
February 13, 1926 - November 19,2020

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)

On the early morning of April 29th, I was having a dream that took place at my maternal grandmother’s place. It was my 22nd birthday and a party was being thrown there. When I arrived, I saw my Nino (Godfather) walk over to me with a tiny/little white glossy gift bag with purple tissue inside.
“Hi Nino, it’s so nice to see you here!”
“Hi mija, Happy birthday! Papallito wanted for me to give this to you, he wants you to have it.”
I was puzzled during this dream, considering that I have never met my Papallito, my second great-grandfather. He had been gone for 34 years, how does he know me? 
	I took the bag and looked at my Nino and started to cry.
	“Mija, don’t cry, it’s okay, Papallito doesn’t want you to cry, he really wants you to have this.”
	I started to nod and really sit with the idea.
	As I started to take out the tissue of the bag, I woke up.
I sat up in tears just reminiscing about the dream both happy, sad, and angry knowing that I wasn’t able to see what the gift was and how could my 2nd great-grandfather acknowledge me in such ways.
	A few months passed and I was thinking about what pieces should be showcased in my gallery. It had been nighttime and I was in bed about to fall asleep when the thoughts pondered through my mind regarding the dream I had with my Papallito. Hilariously, I started to say in my mind,
	“Papallito… I’m not mad at you but, I really wanted to know what was in that bag. I wanted to know what you wanted me to have. Why did my dream have to end so quickly?”
	My right ear rang. The high-pitched tone was bouncing through my ear drums and I felt stunned wondering if that was the possibility he was trying to communicate with me. 
	The next morning I started to have thoughts about the event, I thought maybe asking for a sign could help in understanding if that was him or not. 
	“Papallito, show me something with cherries… a cherry… or anything between those words, to let me know that was you who was trying to communicate with me”
	The day went by and I had seen nothing cherry related. I became very discouraged due to this and wondering if I was just being crazy. I remembered that during the day, I had been Shazaming music that I heard before I got home. I started to scroll down to add music that I had shazamed and saw that there were some music that I didn’t get to add in over the summer. The more I scrolled, I noticed an artist by the name of “Cherrie”...
	The next morning on my way to SJSU on the freeway, I began to tell her what had been happening. As I finished telling her, we had just caught up to a car that we ended up passing since we were in the fast lane. As we passed this car, there had been a long and huge car decal of cherry blossoms. My mom and I were both stunned after seeing the car. We both felt very tripped out and knew that this immediately had been another confirmation from him. 

I’ll never forget this interaction with him, especially now feeling confident that he is undoubtedly proud of what I’m doing to honor my ancestors and to honor his legacy. These events not only have bewildered me into oblivion but have taught and proved to me that even if you’ve never met those who have come before you, they will always be watching over you.

In loving memory of Julian Garza Cantú, 
February 16,1894 - February 6,1988

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)

	No Soy De Aquí, Ni Soy De Allá plays as a transitional self-portrait in both the gallery and my own identity. The piece itself is also named after the gallery and the song by Facundo Cabral, which served as an improvisational song that he made on the spot at a bar. 
Many like to think differently of this song as its lyrics touch the hearts of immigrants and their journeys to wherever they migrated to. Migrant or not, many have found themselves split, including myself, about about their cultural and national identity
The first time I heard this song was on a Mexican-oldies radio station in the early 2000s. Instead of Cabral singing, it was Alberto Cortez who made a tribute cover to Cabral. The second time I heard this song was a couple years ago on Spotify and it gave me instant nostalgia when I first heard it in the backyard of my grandparents’ house. When listening to the lyrics, I realized how much I related to the song, especially now that I am of an older age. The song is 51 years old this year and it still has made an impact on many all over Latin America. 
My background as a detribalized indigenous-american has been quite rough as I often feel lost and distant with my roots. In the U.S, I'm often seen as “too Mexican” to be considered American but once I go back to the motherland in Mexico, I’m always seen as the “American” cousin. It also never helped to experience the ostracization of Mexican classmates during my primary and secondary schooling. It never made sense to me as to why I was always excluded, especially since I was living in the same neighborhoods and had the same upbringings as they did. 
This piece recognizes my identity in the present-day by illustrating my goth style makeup and attire to my indigenous roots within. The 2nd layer illustrates myself in a Mexica- jaguar headdress with crimson red-dye-lipstick and indigo-dyed hair, which was traditionally done in the 15th century by my ancestors.  In the 3rd layer, I display myself in a Lipan-Apache buffalo-bone choker with traditional long-braids. The fourth layer displays myself in skeletal form in the form of a Dia de Los Muertos catrina, which notions to where I essentially will ascend to in the afterlife to join my ancestors. 
The position in which this portrait is placed represents the aftermath of colonization and what I believe to be the causation of injustice, resilience, social constructionism and generational trauma within my family. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
The first Chicana of my family is my grandmother, Dora, who was born in Eagle Pass, Texas who is of Lipan Apache and Mexican heritage.  When she moved to California, she met and married my grandfather. She had my uncle, Julian, named after my grandfather’s grandpa, in 1972 and then my mother, Veronica, in 1974 in Mountain View, California. Both my uncle and mom grew up in East side San Jose. In 1998, my mom met my father and had me in the year of 2000, which leads me back to being the last Chicana so far. 
	This portrait is done in a monochrome fashion and in the style of 90’s chicana glamor-shots. The color that was chosen represents the power of femininity within my family as the women in my family are outrageously strong. 
The song used with this painting is called “Sabor a Mi” by El Chicano. The song is very popular in the chicano community as the band includes a chicana as the lead singer, Ersi Arvisu. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)

Oveja negra means “the black sheep”. In this painting, I’ve created a corn field that consists of two babies in the foreground, one having light brown hair and blue eyes and the other with jet black hair and brown eyes. The light-brown haired baby is not just any ordinary baby, they’re the standard Mexican in Mexico’s media. The baby will grow to become anything they want and if they wanted to get into the entertainment industry, they would easily get that role. As for someone who is darker complected, has indigenous features, and has dark hair/dark eyes, it would take you years to get your big break.
	While growing up, I never had indigenous actresses or entertainment figures to look up to, especially in the Latino/Hispanic/Mexican industry. If they were, it was always the stereotypical roles that were seen as “characters” and not real people. While growing up, I noticed the ostracization I faced in schooling as the white-mexicans would form groups/friendships excluding me out of their friend groups because I was different. I wasn’t the ordinary traditional mexican, as I liked the goth style and grew up with the 90’s chicano style unlike my classmates did. I was always looked at strangely whenever I wore all black or was into horror films or listened to rock music. 
	Due to this, I found myself constantly comparing myself to those with eurocentric features and dreamt of my brown eyes magically turning into blue.I wanted my hair lighter and I wanted my eyebrows thinner just like theirs was. I wanted the racist remarks I overheard to go away. As the years went by, I’ve realized that my ancestors blessed me with their indigenous features and that I should rather appreciate them than compare them to those with anglo-features. 
	The corn in my piece represents the importance of corn to Mexica and many other indigenous groups in Mexica. In Nahuatl, corn is“centli”, which means “our mother”.The Mexica worshiped and celebrated different stages in the plant’s life with festivals and offerings. I represented myself as a baby in the middle surrounded by red skulls to convey my love for the goth aesthetic, as well as my own ideals on “memento mori”, “remember that you [have to] die'.
	The music being showcased with this painting is “It’s A Sin'' by The Pet Shop Boys. The song discusses the singer’s relationship to the Catholic church and his critique of religion itself, The singer believes that religion makes people believe that anything pleasurable is a sin and the Catholic church sets unrealistic and oppressive moral standards for people to follow. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)

The macuahuitl is an oak club fitted with rows of sharp obsidian blades. My ancestors, the Mexica, used this as a weapon to slash, sever, and inflict long bleeding wounds. Nothing better than seeing a colonizer get slashed in the head as revenge for the forever scarring pain and tragedies that were caused to many indigenous families across not just North and South America but to the rest of the world. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)

Blanca Nieves (Snow White) was my first pet. She was a mixed mini-poodle. We had gotten her from Moroleón, Guanajuato, Mexico in 2006 when she was only a couple months old. While we were in Mexico for a couple of weeks, she had gotten sick and the chances of her surviving were very small. My Tia (Auntie), who was a practicing Veterinarian, had taken care of her and was able to ultimately save her life as Blanca Nieves pulled through. 

When we flew back to California, she lived a very happy life with my family and I. One day, my mom was playing with her and stumbled upon calling her ‘Chiquita’. Her ears perched up and immediately responded to her like as if it was her name. Ever since then, we had been calling her Chiquita instead of Blanca Nieves. 

As the years went by, she and I had gone through so much together and she still remained the most loyal, patient, sweet, and comforting  pet that I have ever had. 16 years later, at 80 years old in dog years, she passed away in her sleep on July 28, 2022. 

Due to this year being the first Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) without her, I made a digital painting in commemoration of her. She is surrounded by Cempohualxochitl, or Cempazuchitl, the Mexican marigold, which represents the fragility of life, and is commonly used in Dia De Los Muertos celebrations. They can be both decorative and used for medicinal purposes.

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
	As seen in this portrait, it displays a parallel to the religious figure of Mother Mary (Madonna) and the child (Jesus). Instead, I’ve replaced Mother Mary, an often euro-centric figure to someone of indigenous mexican-american descent. 
	I’ve always seen my mother divinely. She’s been the reason for my existence and she’s been very supportive of me since the very beginning. Although we may share differences, we always have love for each other at the end of the day. Her beauty has always been the standard for me as I’ve looked up to her makeup skills and all the glamor she embodies in everything she does. 
	Since I was a child, I have always had spiritual experiences with other realms, such as seeing “the dead”. I used to see angels in the sky when I used to be outside with my grandma and one time, I had seen Tonantzin, or also known as Guadalupe, herself. 
	It was a very rainy day and my mom was driving us on the way over to my grandma’s house in the early morning. The rain came down harder than ever and the wind started to push the car to the side as the storm got heavier and heavier. My mom started a prayer as she was driving because the weather became scarier as we went through the mountains. As she started to pray to herself, in my car seat, I looked out into the mountains and saw an almost-translucent woman with feathers in her hair, long blue cloak and a red dress on, with glowing rays surrounding her. As I was only a few years old, my language was very limited, as I started to say “the Mama!”. My mom’s eyes jolted at the rearview mirror as she realized what I said and after she had just finished praying. 
	Althroughout life, I’ve been by my mother’s side through the good and the bad. When we experienced hell, I was there for her every step of the way. As Jesus had been there for his mother in biblical methodology. The song that I implemented with this song is called “Los Caminos De La Vida” which translates to “The Paths of Life”. The song discusses motherly love and the paths of life that aren’t as easy as thought out to be. I dedicate this song to my mom for the sacrifices she’s made to take care of my brother and I and to give us the life that she never had. I will always see her as this divine figure who has built this house into a home with her love, attention, and care. 

(photogrammetry, 2022)
Pocket knife given to my grandfather by his father, it is the only thing he has from him. 

(Antonio Javier Flores, Recording with 8 track, c. early 1980s, Photogrammetry model, 2022)
	In the 1980s, my grandfather recorded his grandfather, Papallito, on an 8 track tape talking about his hometown of Sombreretillo, Nuevo Leon, Mexico. He discusses the haciendas that existed and the river that supplied water to the people and its animals. At the end of the track, his grandfather states that he wants to leave this recording as an everlasting memory to be with him forever.

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)

	In this painting, a little girl is seen crying into and hugging onto a male figure. This male figure happens to be stabbing the little girl in the back as a notion of betrayal. The tears resemble the internal pain and suffering that this little girl feels as she misses this male figure as a part of her life. She holds onto the male figure as she recalls the countless memories she’s shared with him and can’t help but think about them whenever she spirals into anger. She understands this male as someone who is hard-working and passionate and understands his emotional absence. Even though she has been betrayed by this figure, she hopes to rekindle the relationship she once had with this figure.The little girl holds onto the hope of creating or allowing this piece to initiate conversations in families to whomever this painting reaches to. To initiate the conversations of latino communities to live up to mistakes, apologize and strive for change. Although this even occurred 3 years ago, I happen to believe it's the little girl inside me that is heartbroken.
	The song Mockingbird by Eminem plays as this painting is displayed due to its correlation to the father-daughter relationship that I once shared very well with my father. This song often makes me cry and think about the great moments I’ve shared with him, especially when I was a little girl. I was always a daddy’s girl, always playing in the backyard with him and always watching sports with him. At that time, I felt like I was appreciated and I felt like my dad was always proud of me. There are times where I don’t understand what I had done wrong for him to betray my family as well as myself, but to heal and grow from my past is where I know my mind should focus on. I hope that this painting finds well in other families and not just in mine. I hope to fix my relationship with my father before it is too late. Life is too short to hold grudges. I hope to make him proud regardless of what he has done and I respect all the sacrifices he’s made to ensure that I have a life he’s never had. I love you Dad. I’m sorry. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
In this piece, many of you may be familiar with the painting, “The Creation of Adam” by Michelangelo. I decided to put my spin on the painting by illustrating the Mexica deity, Ometeotl, which translates to “Two-Lord” in Nahuatl. 
	Ometeotl is simultaneously male and female, with the names Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl. There aren't many illustrations or depictions of them as they have always been seen as abstract concepts rather than anthropomorphic beings.  Ometecuhtli was the only Mexica god that never gained a temple or a following. As the Mexica knew that he was in the highest plane (13th heaven), they always assumed that he would never interact with them but rather was a part of them eternally through rituals and life. With this concept, the Mexica looked to it as an understanding of how earth was composed of polar opposites: light and dark, night and day, order and chaos. 
	Ometeotl was also believed to be a self-created deity who gave birth to the other four major Aztec gods – Huitzilopochtli, Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, and Xipe Totec, who represent the four cardinal sides. 
	In comparison to Christian/Catholic belief, God created Adam which therefore met Eve, who procreated the rest of humanity. 
	I think illustrating this is very important to represent for those who are going through the decolonization process/reclaiming their indigenous roots  and to teach the world about other beliefs of how the world was created. There is so little coverage, based on my 22 years of experience on this earth, on indigenous beliefs and little to no representation in general-education religion classes that are studied here at this educational institution. I believe such instances can create conversations to promote open-mindedness and the desire for understanding the universe altogether in different views. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
	Jose Matilde Tovar (born in 1892) is my maternal grandmother’s grandfather. I came upon a photo of him using Ancestry.com while I was researching my family’s background. When I saw him, I wasn’t too sure if it was truly him or not, I had sent the photo over to my grandmother to take a look at it and sure enough, it was him. 
	According to my grandmother’s sister, he fought and protested in the Mexican Revolution alongside Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata in 1911 due to land lost by indigenous nations at age 19. He took part in the Pancho Villa’s División del Norte, which was the most powerful and feared military unit in all of Mexico.. The Mexican Revolution took place on Nov 20, 1910 and lasted until Feb 5, 1917. The revolution led into the overthrowing of dictator Porfirio Díaz, who had been in power since 1877, a term of 34 years called El Porfiriato, who violated the principles and ideals of the Mexican Constitution of 1857. They also overthrew Victoriano Huerta who killed Francisco Madero, one of the former presidents of Mexico. 

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
My paternal grandfather was a part of the Bracero Program that was created by the US in 1942. Mexico and the US came to an agreement that Mexican men could come to work legally in the United States on labor contracts, most of them being working in fields.The United States and Mexico agreed on sets of protocols that would protect Braceros from discrimination and poor wages. Nonetheless, discrimination continued and Braceros experienced surcharges for room and board, deducted pay, and exposure to deadly chemicals. In 1964, the program ended and the U.S. began to send workers back to their homelands. 
	Back at home, my grandfather was the father of 11 children, one of them being my dad, of course. He was always seen as a great example of what a man should be like. He was sweet, inviting, caring, and most of all, patient. I can recall the small memories I had with  him whenever I came to visit him back in San Nicolas, Guanajuato, Mexico. I remember the times he would play with me when all my cousins wouldn’t. He always took  the time to care for me even though I had to return back to my home back in California. I remember the first time I visited his ranch, where he had so many animals, one of them being a Donkey in which I rode in one of the photos besides this portrait. 
	My grandfather entered heaven on January 25, 2017. I just know that he has reunited with his ancestors and with the many animals whom he’d care for throughout his years. I know he’s entered heaven as I had a dream of him waving his goodbye’s to me to reassure me that he is happy and experiencing no more pain.
	I dedicate my gallery in his honor as he has shown me strength and patience as an individual. Even though he isn’t here today to view my gallery, I surely believe he is here in spirit, and being the cowboy of heaven.
In loving memory, Guadalupe Vargas Yerena
October 3, 1932- January 25, 2017

(digital illustration, procreate, 2022)
	
The Spaniards and the Mexica were at war between 1519 and 1521, Hernan Cortes,  a Spanish conquistador,and his men had defeated the Mexica and gradually began the process of converting the Mexica and other indigenous tribes to Christianity/Catholicism. There are a lot of theories as to why they converted, but according to my family, it was by force. While Cortes and his men explored Tenochtitlan (present-day Mexico City), they witnessed human sacrifice by the Mexica. 
Mexica priests used obsidian blades to slice open the chests of sacrificial victims and offered their still-beating hearts to the gods. They then tossed the victims’ lifeless bodies down the steps of Teocalli (Templo Mayor). The sun god, Huitzilopochtl, was always raging a constant war against darkness, and if the darkness won, the world would end. To keep the sun moving across the sky and to preserve the ways of life, the Mexica had to feed Huitzilopochtli with human hearts and blood.
Taking this very concept, I decided to create a Mexica priest using a Catholic priest as sacrifice, as a form of intimidation for other Catholic priests and conquistadors. These intimidation-stemmed sacrifices were often used upon war captives from other countries and Mexica civilians. I also believe this as a way to reclaim my own beliefs as an indigenous person than to be considered a practicing Catholic. 
 In correlation to other conversion theories to Catholicism, the Mexica were under the suspicion that the Catholic priests were returning to claim their lands, sent by God. As the Mexica is sacrificing the Catholic priest in my painting, the Catholic priest gained a guaranteed ticket to joining the afterlife fighting in the sun god’s army against the forces of darkness. This was a tremendous honor to have at the time. 

(digital illustration/collage, historial documents,  procreate, 2022)

This painting illustrates my maternal grandmother’s parents, Gilberto and Bernarda Jimenez. Their love for each other was so grand that I knew I had to recognize them in this gallery. I have had a dream about Bernarda, my great-grandmother, who funny enough, had never seen her in my entire life. The only existing photo that there was of her was found in a box a week later after my dream had occurred. 
	Ever since that day, I felt the need to do some research, as I was able to find Bernarda’s father, Jose Matilde Tovar, and had found many more resources that included her birth certificate, marriage certificate, census information, and even her boarding crossing card, the same went for her husband, my great-grandfather, Gilberto.  I decided to include these resources in my painting since I found it as a unique strategy to create an art piece out of it. 
	The documents in both of their hair are their birth certificates
	Documents seen in their face (eyes, nose, eyebrows, shading) are their 1950 census info, which was intended to resemble their looks passed down to their children.
	Documents found on their lips are their marriage certificate, to resemble their everlasting love both on earth and in the afterlife. 
	Last but not least, the documents seen on their clothing are their border-crossing cards when they traveled to Mexico and back to the U.S. for work and family related events.