Raising Soli

The last four months of my work have been impregnated and defined by a dog. And not any dog but a dangerous one, some would say.

Soli arrive to our family in May when her original foster person, one of my neighbors, became too terrified of the pup to be able to handle him any more due to his aggressive behavior. At the time Soli was about four months old.

Last week, Soli was accepted at Miranda's animal Rescue, thus beginning a new journey of recovery and learning for both Soli and our family. Here is a series of images I have collected of our journey with my Soli.

And now Soli becomes also art.Threshold, by Yuyi Morales. toilet paper tubes , paper, and light.
Assignment for Heroes Art Journey workshop

Mexican summer production

At the silversmith workshop this year, Lalo taught me how to do lost wax work. I began carving and sculpting my pieces in wax.
A botanical sacred heart, a seashell pendant,

And a necklace with a stone insert

Lalo attached all of my pieces, and other student's productions, into a wax tree to make a plaster mold.

The melting of the silver took place in Lencho's ovens at his studio in Coatepec. Vulcano's place was invaded by wild cats. I couldn't count them all, neither pet them.


Melted silver entered the mold in a centrifugal machine


The mold accepted the silver and it looked like sushi

The water boiled instantly while it liberated the silver from the plaster mold

Now a silver tree still to be separated piece by piece. Nothing looked like silver artwork yet

but soon things began to appear...


Here the finished pieces:



My Mexican production

My friend Alex deserved to have a cumbia made to him. He would dance it, I know. That was how masses of friends from his Zumba class decided to join me and made this video for him. Yes, he is that kind of teacher who would take his shirt off in the middle of the class. Below are the lyrics.



LA CUMBIA PROMETIDA
by Yuyi morales and Kelly O


Ay, sabrocita
Esta cumbia la tengo muy bien pegadita.

Ay, sabrocita
Esta cumbia la tengo muy bien pegadita.

Es la cumbia de la Zumba que un día yo a el prometí.
Es una cuenta concentrada de virtudes y valores,
excedentes, pertinentes, ocurrentes, oponentes
que tan solo son posibles en cholos aquí presentes.

Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.
Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.

El es perfecto. Si
No es creído. No
Un papichulo. Si
Muy pizpireto. Yo?

El es muy guapo. Si
Comprometido. No
Conmigo zumba. Si
Solo conmigo. Hmmm...

Yo era muy bien portadita, niña buena, aerobics girl,
cuando sin ni mas ni menos escuche su regatón.
Ay chiquito, que fue eso? De repente apareció,
como bajado del cielo, llego Alex es Amor.

Los gritos fueron mi alivio, los bochornos acepte,
que el corazón se acelere , y que el sudor a mi me de.
800 calorias, cada dia el prometio,
si le muevo al merengue y le salto al hip -hop

Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.
Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.

Tentaciones―Si
Artimañas―No
Una samba―si
La lambada. Ay Dios.

Se cree muy sexi―Si
No es celoso―No
a mi me quiere.―Si
Zumba!

Ay mamita, santa madre, no me juzgues por favor.

Es cierto que había puesto a san Antonio en un rincón,
lo tenia de cabeza y le ofrecí una oración.
La respuesta fue del cielo. Así fue como paso,
que llegara un Zumba instructor como el que quería yo.

Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.
Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.

Mueve los hombros―Si
Shakea las nalgas.―No
Da vuelta y media.―Si
Ay, que impresión!

Da el warming up―Si
Trae substitutos―No
Tira besitos―Si
La camisa se quito!

Que puedo hacer, mamita linda, si del cielo me bajo,
un Dios tatuado, acelerado, bien peinado, muy bronceado,
acholado, PUA entrenado, zumbeando al ritmo de cumbia,
tantísima perfección.

El lo sabe de antemano, la verdad es su prisión,
que el carece de defectos la mejor de sus virtudes
es que el me quiere un montón.
el me quiere un montón
el me quiere un montón

Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.
Ay, perdí la cuenta, me distrajo su boom boom.

Thank you. Gracias.

Thank you for stories. Gracias.
Thank you for my drawing table. Gracias.
Thank you for my hands. Gracias.
Thank you for my son still sleeping. Gracias.
Thank you for Crazy Luna and always-hungry Chacho. Gracias.
Thank you for my fiery bougainvillea. Gracias.
Thank you for persimmons. Gracias.
Thank you for my husband's warm feet. Gracias.
Thank you for hot pink. Gracias.
Thank you for pastel de tres leches. Gracias.
Thank you for my writers group, The Revisionaries. Gracias.
Thank you for Skype and my sister, my brother, and Monica on the other side of the monitor. Gracias.
Thank you for Pat Mora and her poems. Gracias.
Thank you for my mandolin. Gracias.
Thank you for Ollin. Gracias.
Thank you for Tim's salsa verde. Gracias.
Thank you for my sewing machine. Gracias.
Thank you for John Parra and his paintings that remind me of my childhood. Gracias.
Thank you for books. Gracias.
Thank you because I could never be done saying gracias.

The return of the loved ones dead

The tradition says that today, November 2nd, the dead will return to visit--time to clean the house, prepare the food, turn on the music, and rejoice! What wouldn't you give to have some one you love to be with you again, if only for one day? Today in the Day of the Dead I await for my muertos:

Tia Siria. I remember how you made the most beautiful tortillas, softly round and always rising like a hot balloon. My mother tells me the story of how you and tio Angel eloped one day when you were lefth in charge of taking care of the little siblings.

Tia Siria carrying the baby

Tio Joel, remember how you let me take a poof of your cigarette when I was only six? I do! Then I never wanted to taste it again. We loved you at home.

My tio Joel

Abuelo Felix. The last time I saw you I was walking down your house street with my kindergarten class. You were sitting by the sunlight with a blanket on your lap. I said, "Adios, Papa Felix!" And you waved back. But then I knew you didn't know who I was when you waved to all the other children the same. You were already 104-year-old.

Grandpa Felix

Mama Pita. Legends are said about you. That your son cried in your womb, that you married an old man, that you were called La Bonita, that you raised your children alone killing chickens. What I remember the most about you is that I heard you cry the night I slept with you. I was eight. A few weeks later you were no more.

My Abuela and I

Tio Mario. How everybody loved you. I did too. more than 30 years later I still dream about your return. Will you come visit me tonight? I will play salsa and we can dance together again like when I was a child.

Uncle Mario cutting the cake with my tia Cotita, and his father next to him

Mama Mina. My Abuela Regañona. Believe it or not, grandma, you are one of the most recurrent characters of my life's story. You live grand in all of them.

Mama Mina holding my grandpa's portrait

Maestre Carlos Aceituno, I had been lost in the big city of SF until I found you--at last I was at home. You welcomed me with my toddler son into your class and your dance group, and finally I belonged. Tonight I am dancing at the SF procession in your honor. I miss you.

Carlos and I at the Sf carnaval parade

Cushions and other compulsion that make my day

I have it in my calendar that if there is no pressing deadline in sight, weekends are for family and home projects. This weekend was for making cushions. I couldn't stop, I admit. But my garden loves these colors.
I blame this maniacal obsession of having to make things (anything, something, but make it!) on my mother. My sisters are afflicted too.

Found inspiration

The days when I begin a new book are much like these: reading, reorganizing my space, looking, choosing materials and colors, ordering supplies, writing things I don't want to forget, making to-do lists, staring at the wall, daydreaming, and a lot of imagining. Mostly my job these days is to look hard and find things that make me feel in love and alive so that I can work and begin to create. Here some of wonderful things I have found:

Buildings & Vampires from Nico Casavecchia on Vimeo.

Lucky from MIE on Vimeo.

Denmark from Mark Smith on Vimeo.

One book question--and my friends coming to the rescue

This question was posted after my note Yes, I Look Like an Illegal Immigrant:

"Hello, Ms. Morales, I was wondering if you knew of a children's book or young adult novel about a high school student trying to be a normal American teenager but having to hide their parents's illegal immigrant status? After graduation , they can't get a job, drive a car, or get scholarships for college. This is for a grad project I'm working on."

I know that the voice of the community is far richer than mine alone, so I posted the question in my Facebook page. And here, in this list of recommended books I got an answer for Steve and for anyone who wants to know:

Ask Me No Questions, by Marina Budhos
Under the Feet of Jesus, by Helena María Viramontes
Pablo and Pimienta, by Ruth Covault
Friends from the Other Side, by Gloria Anzaldúa and Consuelo Mendez Castillo
Return to Sender by Julia Alvarez
La Linea, by Ann Jaramillo
Breaking Through by Francisco Jimenez
The Circuit by Francisco Jimenez
Reaching Out by Francisco Jimenez
We are Americans, by William Perez

Thank you so much for the recommendations to Scoot Beck, Ginger Knowlton, Oralia Garza de Cortes, and Sherry York.

I hope these help you, Steve.

Books in the family--and how everybody leaves me behind

When my mother came to visit a few winters ago, I gave her a list of request: no sweeping my house, no doing my dishes, no trying to pick up my mess, to cook only if she wanted, and to, please, please, write down her childhood memories.
Against my request, she did all of the above.
With the diligence of an insect my mother sat at my computer and wrote down a hundred and so pages of the things she remember about growing up. At the end of her visit, and having only recounted half of her life, she wrapped up her writing with a "to be continued" and handed me her witting.

It took me about a year to revise and proof read, format the text and design a cover in my free time, until finally by next Christmas I was able to surprise her with copies of her printed memoir.

Earlier this year I received a notice from the printing house that informed me that now anyone can find it in Amazon, making my mother the first person in my family to released a book this year.

My mother visited us for a few weeks this summer too, and I saw it with my own eyes: she is nearly done writing her second installment.

Then there is my sister, Magaly. She is the youngest of us three sisters; I am the oldest. But very early Magaly grew taller than me, developed feet larger than mine, swam faster than I could attempt, could hold her breath longer too, and when she began drawing at an early age, everybody I knew, including me, were left in the dust.

So, of course, she has not one but two books published this year:

Here is an excerpt from a review of What Can You do With A Paleta, a book written by Carmen Tafolla:

“The lyrical prose is equally beautiful in both languages. Morales uses broad, curvy brushstrokes of contrasting bright and fruity colors to capture the look of Mexican folk art. The characters’ faces are round with slightly slanted eyes and rendered in golden shades of burnt sienna...this joyful celebration of barrio life is a must-have for children’s collections.”
--School Libray Journal

Magaly's colaboration with Pat Mora resulted in her second nook this year, A Piñata In A Pine Tree.


Here are some words from Kirkus review:

"Mora blends Latino holiday traditions of her native Southwest with some from Mexico. The gifts are ethnic dishes like pastelitos, ornaments like paper lanterns-luminarias-and spinning tops-trompos-and Mexican folk-art-styled figures. Morales's acrylic paintings complement the song, showing, in the background, family members engaged in activities that are revealed on the last page along with the identity of the amiga-a new little sister."

Just like I saw my mother's, I also witnessed these books of my sister develop. While Magaly worked on her illustrations, we constantly talked and looked at what she was creating.
Ever since then, I been trying to make my feet grow, and I have also been practicing holding my breath longer, because, you see, my family is leaving me behind and I don't know what else to do...

Fruitful

Yesterday was the Northern California Book Awards event at the Main Branch of the San Francisco Public Library. I have special fondness for this place because it was brand new when I discovered it, and to me it seemed so monumental and out of this world.
My book Just in Case was nominated in the children’s category. This event is somehow particular (for being a book award, I mean) because they announce the winner “academy award” style. No one knows who the winner will be until his or her name is announced.
The winner this year was Pamela Turner, with her amazing book A LIFE IN THE WILD about animal conservation Schaller.
Ok, I didn’t win, but while I was waiting for the winner to be announced a message was left in my cell phone. At the end of the event I found out that the call was to announce to me that Just in Case is the 2009 Americas Book Award winner! (Chicago D.C. here I come!) I don’t have the information about other books selected yet. The Americas Award committee comes up every year with a rich list of award, honors, and commended book to look for. I look forward to hear more about all of them.

In the meantime I will report another list that Just in Case made it into just recently; the 2009 Notable Children’s Books in the Language Arts. Here the criteria for the selection of these books:

“The charge of the seven-member national committee is to select thirty titles each year that best exemplify the criteria established for the Notables Award. Books considered for this annual list are works of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry written for children, grades K-8. The books must meet one or more of the following criteria:

1. deal explicitly with language, such as plays on words, word origins, or the history of language;
2. demonstrate uniqueness in the use of language or style;
3. invite child response or participation.

In addition, books are to:
4. have an appealing format;
5. be of enduring quality;
6. meet generally accepted criteria of quality for the genre in which they are written."


This has been a busy time of the year, and will only keep getting busier as I approach the end of another book deadline and the ALA ceremony award before the end of my summer in Mexico. But there are so many exciting things happening (like, for example, my garden in bumming all red, and yellow, and fuchsia). So, in the name of good times, here are some images from the Revisionaries, my writer’s group trip to Asilomar.

It is true, our group can’t get enough of being together (even after our bimonthly meetings and numerous of celebrations), so this year five of the six of us went to Asilomar and rented a house. While some of us walked by the beach some others attended the traditional SCBWI Asilomar Conference.

In her way back home from the conference, Jackie Woodson came and visited us. At the beach we found these strange marine plants.

At our little rented house, and unexpectedly, we hosted the faculty and volunteers party for the conference. Here are Maria and Gianna getting ready for the night.

But before the party we found a stray dog! She was running among the cars, but stopped when we called her. She was loving and tame but I couldn’t take her home with me. Eventually we drove her to the police station to wait for her owners.
End of the party. Dishwasher machine dysfunction!
Afterward we had too much free time on our hands.

We began cooking spying plans.
Here is Jim resting and unsuspecting of being a spying target ( Lynn was a target too, but she is not supposed to know about it).
We had a yellow mysterious liquid to deliver to his rightful owner (in reality it is only shampoo, but it had Jim’s name on it)Spying...


looking,
Hiding!

Ah, we are already looking forward to next year.

A joyful day!

The ALA childrens books awards have been anounced this morning and guess what?
Here is the Pura Belpre announcement--JUST IN CASE!:

http://www.ala.org/ala/newspresscenter/news/pressreleases2009/january2009/ymabelpre.cfm

Ajaua!!!

Allowing myself to be joyous

Some of the things I might allow myself to do tomorrow:

Turn on the TV before school time

Cheer

Sing

Believe in

Believe in fairytales

Clap

Love

Forget that we are only human

Surprise myself

Cry

Improvise

I am already loving tomorrow!

La Chica Banda in San Francisco

Loved Café Tacuba since I was a teenager living in Mexico. This time I went to see them at the Outlands festival with my teenager son, who pushed me above the barricade and told me I am a chica banda too and go a dance like one!

Can you find me? Hint: I am not wearing my mask.

Making a whish

I want to be a filmmaker. I want to be a filmmaker. I want to be a filmmaker…just like him.

Father and Daughter by Michael Dudok de Wit

Thanks to Maria VanLieshout for the link

Things that make my corazon jump

Stop-motion. Love at first sight. It always amazes me with its impossible life. Especially when it comes in the shape of a film like Madame Tutli Putli, explained in this video:



Here are some seconds-long movies where artist Jason Walker shows side to side the before and after processing of adding human eyes to stop-motion puppets

And so, this is Madame Tutli Putli

Wow!