Pingo’s first pair of skates

Pingo (little devil in Spanish) was my 2005 snowflake—the first year I participated in Robert’s Snow fundraising.
Here is a sequence of the making of the piece.

First I built the armature with wire.

Here is my snowflake ready to be painted.

I built the basic shapes of my little devil over the armature

Pingo was made from colored Sculpey and I did almost not painting at all over the figure.

I sewed the little underwear from a knitted shirt, and the blades for the skates I shaped from the thinnest wire.

Robert’s Snow: For Cancer’s Cure starts today at 9:00am. My 2007 snowflake, Little Night: See Me Shine, a music box, will be now available for bidding and until the November 23.

So, go see and fall in love with the snowflakes!

Shine is in the eye of the beholder

For the second time my artwork is part of Robert’s Snow: for Cancer Cure, a distinctive fundraiser consist of online auctioning more than 200 original pieces of art created on wooden snowflakes.
I received my wooden snowflake in the mail over the summer, right at the time I was finishing illustrations for a book and before my annual trip to visit my family in Mexico. But at last, late in August I was able to work in my snowflake.
I had been looking forward to the work, for I had a specific idea for this year. I was going to use one of my book characters as inspiration, Little Night, a book I painted while learning about the fierce fight for life of two Mexican families, the Varilla Cruz Family, and Asuncion’s’ family, whose mothers and one of the children were dealing with cancer and poverty.
The other part of my idea was that I wanted to create a music box—something new for me, but that I have seen before in the work of some of my artist friends.

At last the auction will begin this Monday, and as Little Night: See Me Shine, a music box, is about to be available for bidding, it came to my attention that the description posted by the Danna- Farber foundation has led to confusion about what my snowflake is and does. Here is the question that has prompted: Does Little Night: See Me Shine glow in the dark?

It does not. My snowflake is a music box. You twist the base of piece, and it cranks the mechanism that begins a broken tune. While the tune plays, the figure of the babe standing atop of the box turns around. The music was originally a popular Christmas song, but I altered the tune by taking apart the mechanism and breaking some teeth of the steel comb.
To give a further insight of how I make my snowflake, I put together this video that I created with the help of my artist fiends. My husband and son were the photographers, my friend Miguel Martinez created the music, and another friend of my provided the recording of the music box sounds.



And so why call it “See me Shine” if it does not shine?
I would say that the shine is in the eye of the beholder. My snowflake is a wish. A wish I have from my own child, my beloved son, as well for the Varilla Cruz children and Asuncion’s kids, which are five and have nobody else in the world but their mother. My wish for all of them is that they shine.
When I showed my writer’s group my snowflake and we discussed the name of my piece, one of them, my friend Jim, sent me this writing by Marianne Williamson, which tells it all so right:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

And so here is my wish for everybody: Shine.

First dust of snow in Illinois

I was there in Illinois wearing my sandals and no sleeves a few days ago, right before my birthday. Coming from visiting Tucson, I had forgotten about the weather difference, and I found myself completely unprepared for the cold. Yet the kids and the teachers at Lakewood School and Hampshire High school made my visit a warm event.

Ands so, here are some of the things I saw in Illinois:
From Lakewood School, six grade creations! Notice the inclusion of iconic skeletons in some of their drawings, an homage to Sr, Calavera.

Some questions kids in Illinois wanted to ask but didn’t have a chance (these question I got from letters that Mr. Avila’s Class wrote, most of them were written in Spanish, so I am doing my best at translating):

Kid’s Question: Where in Mexico do you come from?
Yuyi’s Answer: From Xalapa, the Flowered City, in the hot state of Veracruz.

K.Q.: How old were you when you came to the USA?
Y.A.: 25

K.Q.: Did you have papers to cross the border or did you come as a mojada, a wetback?
Y.A.: When I crossed the border, I did it with what is called a Fiancé Visa, which meant I was allowed to come into the USA to marry the man I loved, who was a USA citizen. So, I didn’t get here as a mojada, instead I carried my baby walking through a hot concrete bridged that linked Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, with El Paso, Texas, where the immigration office reviewed my visa and finally let me in. Being Mexican, a new mother, and 25, I wasn’t granted a regular tourist visa, which was all I really wanted.

K.Q.: How long does it take to write a story?
Y.A.: some books I write fast; my book Just A Minute took me less than a week. Other stories I am still writing and are taking me years!

K.Q.: Where do you live?
Y.A.: Near San Francisco, California, in a place named Pleasant Hill, and it really is a Monte Placentero!

K.Q.: Did you create Señor Tlalocan?
Y.A.: Señor Tlalocan is another name for the Aztec God Tlaloc, the maker of rain, lighting and thunder. Tlaloc lived in a lush paradise called the Tlalocan, a place where everything grew. My Señor Tlalocan is just a Yuyi-version of this deity.

Click here to get a template that can be printed and cut to make a Señor Tlalocan that moves his arms and legs. For you!

K.Q.: How old were you when you got interested in writing for children?
Y.A.: I was 26, I had just gotten to the USA and fell in love with children’s books in the public library. I wanted to write and illustrate my own. I had a lot of learning to do.

K.Q.: Are you married?
Y.A.: I am married to Tim, a tall and skinny gringo whom I love with all my Spanish.

K.Q.: Did you go to the University?
Y.A.: I graduated from P.E school and from Psychology, both at the Universidad Veracruzana in my country.

K.Q.: How many children do you have?
Y.A.: One, he is a 13-year-old skyscraper.

K.Q.: Are you impressed with what you have accomplished?
¿Esta admirada de usted misma?
Y.A.: I am feliz with myself and what I do! It makes me happy to be able to create and share my work. When I was growing up, I never though of myself as an artist, but I wished I could be one. Now, I am impressed of how much can be accomplished if ones sets to work for it.

K.Q.: What is your real name?
Y.A.: You can hear me talk about my real name by going to this link and clicking on the red rectangle where it says “Listen Now”

K.Q.: Why don’t you make a book about Cantinflas?
Y.A.: what a great idea!

K.Q.: Can you give me a drawing of Cantinflas?
Y.A.: Here is one. This is from the sketch I made for one of the illustration of Los Gatos Black on Halloween:

K.Q.: What county you like best USA or Mexico?
Y.A.: Mexico is my Corazon, my heart; it makes palpitate the energy that runs inside me. The United States is the place where, with work and dedication, I am being able to follow my dreams. They are very different to me, and I love them both.

Mr. Avila Question: Do you think that your art is influenced by the art of the Muralist Diego Rivera?

Y.A.: I am sure my art is influenced by Diego Rivera’s art, because my work is the result of all the things that are part of my growing up, my memories, and the images I love, including those saw in my text books at school, in the movies my parents took me to see, and in magazines and books. Diego Rivera is one of my favorite artists, but I also admired another muralist whose work I saw in my text book at school. His name is Jorge Gonzales Camarena

Things I heard in Illinois (at Lakewood):
Take me with you!

And, to finish, how I look like to some of the children in Illinois (this one is from Karla and additional art by Rocio):

What a great day in Illinois!





Late Happy Birthday, Dakwane the artist!

Tucson and the USBBY conference

Things that happened in Tucson:
I felt in love with a saguaro. It stood tall and valiant, enduring the fiery sun without complain. When I saw it for the first time my heart was taken.
I was a USBBY opener speaker. Afterwards I was declared a skin shedder, like the Tucson lizards and snakes.

On the first night dessert was cinnamon chocolate nachos

Things I heard in Tucson:

“No one wants to be wounded by story. People want to be healed by story."

"You cannot blame people and expect them to help you."
“The job of an artist is to take poison and turn it into medicine.”

-Ibtisam Barakat

“Every voice matters. Every voice has a right to speak. Of course, we don’t have to listen.”
-Monty Roessel

"How do you become and artist? The secret is finding your own place and making it sacred.”
-Shonto Begay

"Writing is not about the big things, but about the small things.”
“We are imperfect beings moving towards perfection.”
“Writing is about vision. It is about seeing things.”
“I am a barbarian. I am a savage!”
-David Almond

Things I saw in Tucson:

Liborio, tattooed skin, big shoulders small legs, unshaved face, jumping into the ocean waters as shown in the picture book Un Hombre De Mar written by Rodolfo Castro, illustrated by Manuel Monroy, an IBBY Honour Book. A most poetic sight.
The story in Spanish reads something like this: “Liborio has sea water inside his veins. Waters from the seven legendary seas. With little fish and everything, with vastness, shipwrecks, tides, and swells.”
And here is Liborio on the cover of his book, a man who doesn’t want to be good or bad, but only be like the sea.

Ah, Liborio, I think he could be my uncle.

Visiting Carey School

At Carey School in San Mateo children weren’t frightened of the scary things I brought with me when I visited. They liked all things ghostly and they screamed for scary stories to read.
They are also illustrators of creepy books; here are only a few of many pictures of witches, werewolves, skeletons, and other sorts of deadly creatures that show just what daring artists these children are:

In my way back home I brought a letter with this picture of Mother Sky. Beautiful.

Halloween masks

Nothing to wear for Halloween yet? No worries, your Halloween masks are here!
Pick your choice (these are downloadable PDF’s):

Halloween Pumpkin
Cat
Cantinflas, the Charles Chaplin of Mexico.
Werewolf, although a rather nerdy one
Teen Zombie
Little Witch
The Mexican Muralist Diego Rivera
Calaverita or sugar skull
Olmec head, Cabeza Olmeca, pre-Hispanic head sculpture

Luchadora

I made Luchadora while I was in Mexico this summer. I was thinking of how we all, especially women, are luchadoras, fighters, in our own way.
Luchadora wears the iconic Mexican mask of the modern hero. Yet, here she is, for the first time, taking her mask off in public.

Nothing to be shy about; she is like any other woman. She sells newspapers in the street

We are all Luchadoras!

Society of Illustrators Original Art Show

One of my favorite paintings from book Little Night in on display at the Original Art show exhibit, from Oct 17 to Nov 21.

Actually, it was also one of those paintings that made me question talents and work. From the beginning I struggled with the colors over the dark figures, and the capriciousness of the acrylics and the glazing liquids. Yet at the end I slept happy.

More questions by children

I was wearing my t-shirt dress, the one that I made by printing images of things I like. And a boy pointed at a picture on it and asked, “What is that?”
There I was happy to introduce my childhood reading: Revistas!
Some of my first literature was old revistas, magazines that my aunts and my parents bought; mostly Mexican comic books and graphic novel printed on brown paper. I had an aunt who sold them in her dark, little groceries store. The revistas were old and used, but she had a rack full of them, and every time we visited her, I spend most of my day reading the merchandise by the foot of a tree.

This year while I was in Mexico I found some of my favorites revistas back in the magazine racks of the street vendors in my hometown. I found, Revista Semanal, with dramatic stories of life, love, betrayal, and death.

Lagrimas y Risas, tears and laughs.

And my favorite of favorites, La Familia Burron, the Burron Familly, which chronicles the adventures of the Burron’s as they try to survive poverty and corruption in the slumps of Mexico City.

One of my favorite episodes was when the Burron mother, lacking food money, makes chilaquiles out of newspapers to feed the entire neighborhood. She was always a hero!

Visalia school vists and Arne Nixon Center Conference

Things that happened in Visalia andFresno:
I ate an ice cream sundae.
At one of the schools I visited they had a surprise for me: A beautiful girl in sixth grade told me I am her cousin. Her Mother is Morales, daughter of a Morales, who was related to a Morales, who died a while ago and couldn’t testify for our family relation anymore, but was my relative. I believe her!
I met Aliki. Sublime.

Things I heard in Visalia and Fresno:
“I like your teeth. I mean, the ones that are still there.” Aliki to a tooth gaped child.
“I imagine things” Karen Cushman.

Things I brought home from Visalia and Fresno:
A drawing from a boy who can’t stop drawing.
A poem from a girl.
My portrait by another girl at the library.
A handmade afghan from Kate.
A branch of cotton that George P. picked up from the fields.

One thing a teacher told one of her students really wanted to ask, but didn’t get a chance to:
“What would you like to be if you weren’t an author and illustrator?”
Here is my short answer:
A filmmaker. A Leon tamer. A landscaper. A dressmaker. A street clown. A scuba diver. A trapeze artist. A guitar player. A psychic. A dancer. A doll maker. A puppeteer. A singer. A poet.

And so, here is the poem I brought home

And a photo with Aliky taken by Kate Nelson.

In the mail today

Children Should Be Seen: The Image Of The Child In American Picture-Book Art book.

There, in page 47—Señor Calavera shyly demonstrating that sugar skeletons are part of the child in the family too.

Thumbnails

Reorganizing scattered papers, I was in front of the smallest of my drawings for Little Night.
It stills marvels me to find so much seed in such a little things.