Vote your choice! Help me initiate my new laptop

 Last Fall, I got a new Macbook Pro. I joined the modern era and switched from a desktop to a laptop. I am still in love with its shiny silver casing and accessories. But now, despite my best efforts, it's not so shiny and new. So I have decided to put a sticker on the top of my lap top. This is a big move for me as I've cherished the sleek apple design. 

Thanks to Temu, I have a large collection of stickers. I like to gift them or grace them on unexpected public surfaces. In my younger years, I had a car filled with bumper stickers. Not so anymore. I do worry about vandalism and harassment in this red state I live in; that is not a paranoid thing nowadays. Also, I lease my car and will have to return it in great condition without gummy residue. So I'll settle for my laptop. You may notice that I like things with humor. This sticker will be speaking to me daily, so I don't need an education on a topic. I like to smile when I open my laptop. 

Now, all you lurkers out there, this is your chance to shine. I hope I'm pleasantly surprised. I see lots of numbers in my statistics but very rarely do I hear from anyone in the comment section. I hope all of you will take part in this poll. Know that I do not collect any information about you if you vote. Also, kudos to me for being fancy shmancy and learning how to add a poll.

PS: even my cat got in on. this action. 

Be a 'degenerate'

One of the hallmarks of totalitarian regimes is a crackdown on freedom of expression. Hitler censored artistic expression that he deemed "degenerate" - any art that did not promote the ideals of Nazi Germany. Today, we have Trump cracking down on art he deems as promoting "improper ideology" in our country's most celebrated museums, such as the Smithsonian and in particular the National Museum of African-American History and Culture. (you better click on these links today as these websites will, no doubt, begin to censor what is deemed improper ideological art in their collections.) Art that highlights the history of iniquities in the US are now seen as anti-American by his standards. The history of genocide, enslavement and oppression of marginal groups in the US are now being whitewashed. 

Because of this censorship, I now see it my artistic and moral duty to produce art that displays truth in history and tells the stories of people like me: brown, queer, woman, disabled, etc. Inspired by this, I dug out this old journal entry (that I find lacking in technical skill). I do not like how I did my face with pastels, but enough of my perfectionism. My art journal, my story. Not every layout has to be great.

I made this journal entry a couple years ago when I began to identify as mixed race with Andean indigenous roots combined with Iberian European. This was after I did an ancestry.com analysis. It was a sadly powerful experience to see the colonization of my ancestors by the conquering Europeans. When I saw that half of my DNA was indigenous from the South American Andes region, I saw the truth. Many of my physical features and skin color comes from that side of my lineage. The rest comes from the conquerors who raped my female ancestors as an act of war, and in a concerted effort to breed out the "Indian". 

I hate the fact that 'Hispanics' are simply seen as white by US census statistics. It's simply not scientifically accurate. Reducing an entire mixed race people as white erases their history of colonization. Latinos are a mixed race. Mestizos.  Some of us have more indigenous roots, and some of us have more European. My experience growing up Latina in the US was certainly not as a white person. I was often seen as "mulata". This art journal entry was the start of my identifying as mixed-race in order to better reflect reality and educate about the European colonization that happened in Peru.

Looking back to my time in art school, I see that even back then, I tried to paint an aspect of my experience with some of the Latino racism in the US. I remember painting this portrait of my father and I in a painting class. I wanted to use glitter and or sequins in the Mexican sombreros to drive home the garish caricature of all Latinos in the US. Growing up, I was always misidentified as Mexican or Puerto Rican, even by those that knew me well. No matter how many times I told them I am Peruvian. They could not be bothered to remember. Forget learning anything about my wonderful Peruvian culture. Cinco de Mayo was seen as a holiday made just for me and my kind. Tequila, sombreros, serapes.

So I did a portrait of my father and I as ghosts wearing the accoutrements of a different culture than mine. One the US comically portrays my people in. My art teacher missed my point. He told me in no uncertain terms of any art that employed glitter or sequins was not real art.

He said I would never be taken serious as an artist if I used those materials, I tried to explain that I was using these cheap shiny embellishments precisely to highlight the cartoonish lens of Mexican culture imposed on a Peruvian family. But his chastisement hit home and I internalized shame. Shame for my poor taste as an artist.

Today I reclaim my art from the constraints of a dominant culture's lens. I will make the art that I think tells my story, that validates my vision. It is more important than ever, that US artists express their truths. Art can educate as well as delight. 

Now, I got my Bachelors of Arts in art history that was primarily art of the (male) western world. I love many artists, genres and periods of Western art history. I am not bashing that. But as an artist myself, I produce art that reflects my life. And it should not be censored as inappropriate ideologically. Latino history and life experiences are not inappropriate! 

So let the current administration try to erase us. We have the numbers to resist. Marginalized groups of people make up the majority of people in the US. And we have stories to tell, through art and  discourse. We determine our narrative. Many artists may continue to produce safe work that does not rock the boat in this political climate. They may grace the halls of approved galleries and museums, but they will always have to dance to the Emperor's fiddle.

Eww weee, political catfighting

 

These days I am loathe to watch or read the news because it is so depressing. I do not feel the left has the infrastructure, strategy or energy to fight this decline of democracy happening in the US.* This morning's reading of The Guardian pushed this little thorn into my side: last week, the rightwing Conference on the State of Women and Family(CSWF) met in New York at the same time that the international rights' 69th Commission on the Status of Women met at the UN. What ensued that week was a horrific picture of women against women fighting. 

While the mouthpieces for CSWF state they love and respect women, their platform calls for a halt in global efforts to empower women with equal rights. Their platform takes pages from four leading far right groups, one of which is Project 2025 and the other, C-Fam, which has been designated a hate group from Southern Poverty Law Center.

The rights' attack on what they call 'gender ideology' and a destruction of family values is being fueled by blatant lies, homophobia, misogyny, and anti-intellectualism. They attack universities as spreading corrosive thoughts and corrupting women. They want women at home, obeying their husband acting as breeders and leaving the workplace upper echelon for men only. And women will not pursue higher learning not approved by male powers that be.

These manipulative strategies must be confronted on a personal level - woman to woman, family to family. It is going to take a multiracial ground swell of women in the US to see that aligning themselves with the far right is signing their rights away. 

Hey, I'm ready. If I could walk; well, I would be out in the streets burning my bra. Heck, I guess I could go in a wheelchair. But I need younger activists to do the organizing for me. I will support them, but I don't have ability to be on the front line like I was in the 80s. Women need to go back to the old ways of basic feminism 101 organizing. But this time we must have learned the lessons of class and race consciousness. The new woman's movement cannot be separate from racial and class struggles. We need to represent the majority of women. 

I could write here about the ludacris lies spread by far right organizers like Denise Mountenay. But please, I urge you to get informed yourself. Start with the Guardian article I linked above. Women everywhere need to be able to talk about these issues with the other women in their lives. We can never again lie complacent while middle class white women align themselves with the far right like they did in electing Trump.  We need a mass movement powered by one on one folks talking and working together. We cannot rely on the Democratic Party to do this. They have proved unreliable. Each individual woman must make it her mission to advocate for women's rights.

Talk with your sisters, talk with your friends. Educate yourself on women's history and our struggle for rights. Educate yourself on the needs of the majority of women in the US. We need to support our young women activists. Both young and old have much to teach each other.

This is me on my soapbox. Bad times are coming. We think they're bad now, but they're only going to get worse if there is no resistance, Do you want your daughters to be able to go to a university that has not been academically hobbled by the right? Do you want your nieces and friends to be able to have access to sex education, contraception and comprehensive healthcare? How about equality in the workplace? Do you want to have a voice in the governance of your own body and mind? Start where you can, Bring up conversations with friends, join an organization, contribute money, attend a protest. 

Just do something. And keep your eyes on the prize.

* Lest I end on a despairing note, I offer up this analysis that shows popular resistance is on the rise. Thank you to my friend S, who dropped this in my messages today. 

Find your tribe

I created this art journal entry thinking I might make it my Facebook profile banner. But I'm not proficient at editing photos and I cannot make it smaller in height, while maintaining the length. Perhaps pink is a stereotypical color for women's month. But it is also the color related to heart and sentiment.

In life, you need to find your tribe. Find the people that lift you up and grow with you. It may or may not include family. The word tribe used to describe chosen people in your life that make up your family was first introduced in the LGBTQ community. Makes sense as so many queers were ostracized by their loved ones. So they created alternate family. In the 1980s, when I came out, you could ask someone "are you ‘family’”? And that was a buzz word for LGBTQ.  Later it became "tribe" instead of "family". Now, “tribe”is part of our mainstream lexicon. (If I am incorrect in this  observation, please let me know.)

While I chose an un conventional life journey, I have always been family oriented; so I have always tried to include my immediate family in my chosen family/tribe. But I have non-biological family in my tribe as well. Beloved friends I've known for decades, and even new friends. My tribe values self expression, healing work, social awareness, non-conformity and non-judgmental attitudes. We are also very creative, joyful, and fun.

Currently, I am relying on my tribe to support me during a difficult time. Of course I have the physical healing of my double spinal decompression surgeries and my RA. But I am also heartbroken. Several loved ones are facing hard times and I feel for them. But I am also grieving a falling out with someone I love. A much loved person, who has been close to me my entire life, is very angry with me. They are pulling back from me. Granted, I have pulled back from them, but not as drastically. The issues are almost irrelevant because it is impossible to have a lifetime relationship with someone in which you never have conflict. So the issues I brought forth are just wrinkles of frustration I felt we needed to iron out. But we do not have a history of being able to navigate disagreements easily.

I knew my friend would take my constructive criticism of certain behaviors personally, But I felt confident that upon reflection, she would come back and say something along the lines of  “OK, I hear you . . . " 

However, my attempt to initiate a discussion about things that are difficult for me were met with indignation. I do not feel I was heard at all. My words were twisted into something different - a personal attack of their character. We are at an impasse and I feel there is nothing I can do. I cannot stay silent when certain behaviors are alienating me. I need a two-way street in which we both listen to and try accommodate each other’s needs. I haven’t always advocated for myself in this regard. But I have grown to value myself enough to ask for what I need. Unfortunately, I have accepted many relationships in my life which were unequal in acceptance. But no more.

I have shed many tears over this falling out and I feel a bit rudderless in my life right now. I am grieving the relationship I wish I had with this person. The irony is that this person feels I do not love them, value them or respect them. 

Thank God, I have my tribe to offer a shoulder for sadness.  I trust in their constructive feedback. It makes a huge difference. I did not always have a great support network. Actually, this is a skill I have learned late in life. I have had to reach out and bring in those I want to create family with. I seem to be in a golden era of my life in which I am manifesting much that I have desired both within myself and with others.

I have heard from many people in South Florida that it is difficult to make friends here and I agree. From 25 years here, I only have a few, but they are solid. Most of my ride-or-die mates are folks I've known for decades. I learned late in life that I needed to tell those I love that I love them and to show them often. I learned to nurture relationships. And I learned to expect occasional turbulence and how to resolve conflict constructively and with kindness.

Do you have such a circle of people in your life if not, what prohibits you from finding them?

 

Kokopelli

 #LindysChallenge25 ⁠

This is my first entry in a Lindy's Gang's monthly challenge. It is pretty simple as I don't have a lot of supplies yet. The March challenge was to use two Lindy's gangs products and incorporate rubberstamps and music. 

I chose a depiction of the southwest indigenous icon Kokopelli, dancing and playing his flute. I hope to bring indigenous elements to my mixed media works as I am half indigenous from Peru. But wow, trying to find stencils or stamps of Andean indigenous motifs is very hard. I have actually found none. Thus I am portraying another indigenous motif from North America.

Although trained as a painter, I enjoy paper crafts. From card making to art journaling to mixed media. This art journal page utilized Lindy's gangs spray paints and powder pigments, along with rubberstamps and a stencil. 

If you are interested in working with such materials, I encourage you wholeheartedly. It is so much fun.. All you need is an imagination, playfulness, and a workspace. Enjoy a 10% discount on Lindy's Gang products with my link. Use my discount code at checkout: DEBORAHSFL

Recovery notes, 1

This is one of five messy journal pages called Hospital Stays 1 & 2, 2025. I had four major surgeries in 2024 and many hospital stays. Unfortunately, 2025 started with two. I am committed to doing anything possible to avoid any invasive procedures or hospitalizations for the rest of 2025! Let's hope my body cooperates.

At this point, I feel I have significant medical trauma to work through. Medical trauma does not only occur from abusive or inappropriate medical incidences. It also applies to the incredible physical and emotional trauma you go through when you have a major illness and medical intervention for treatment.

While, most of my healthcare providers were wonderful, there were a handful that caused emotional and physical harm. It only takes a few people working 12 hour shifts to impact your hospital experience. But, luckily, these people were few and far between.

An overriding, soul wrenching experience in 2024 was the unbearable PAIN. The pain I was living with on a daily basis had become literally too much to bear. Multiple Percocets a day did not extinguish it, and I was reduced to barely moving at all. I could only be on my feet a couple hours a day and then had to lie flat in pain. I would not wish this on anyone. Along with your loss of daily functioning, you have to deal with unrelenting pain in multiple places in your body. Much of it was nerve pain, which is it's own version of hell.

I don't wanna revisit these terrible times too much in this post. I still live with pain on a daily basis, but it is not as extreme, and I look forward to it disappearing. I am also regaining much of my abilities such as using my dominant hand to write and eat with.  I am also gaining in my ability to be on my feet longer, and I am relearning to walk. I have a year to work on this and I'm hoping for a full recovery. 

I am also going back to some of my rheumatoid arthritis medication. I was off them for five months and boy did I feel it! I am still not cleared for my biologic injections of Enbrel, but I got to start my hydroxychloroquine and sulfasalazine last week. Hopefully the side effects from these medications will pale in comparison to the relief I will get in my many painful joints. I had to be taken off all my RA medication because medication for autoimmune illnesses suppress your immune system and I could not have that while I was undergoing sensitive surgical recoveries.

I feel such gratitude to my spinal neurosurgeons, nurses and anesthesiologists. Dealing with severe spinal compression is so delicate and complex. I am overwhelmed with appreciation for the people that went down this long educational tract to be able to save people like me from paralysis and death. Thank you, thank you, thank you. My neurosurgeons had to go through medical school, then go years for a specialty in neurology, and then had to go years in a specialty of spinal neurosurgery. It is one of the longest physician trainings.

This journal page is messy on purpose. It is chaotic and violent.  "Fall risk "was a label assigned to me in medical settings. This told personnel that I needed their hands on help for everything. I literally had alarms set on my bed and chair, prohibiting the slightest move towards independence. I do understand that this was for my safety. But the hospital definitely aired on the side of caution. As a fall risk, I had to fight with healthcare staff to give  me any privacy. The hospital's fear of liability in case I would fall kept me dependent in ways I did not need. The most private of actions had to be in full view and hands-on with 1 to 3 people. To say that I was impatient and crabby to be left alone is an understatement. The brick walls represent my struggle to breakthrough pain and demoralization to embrace recovery. The fiery colors reference  my pain and blood.

My rehabilitation is difficult.  It is a daily challenge that sees growth in very small increments. And my body is still not 100%. I am chronically anemic, my rheumatoid arthritis is flaring in several joints and my cervical and thoracic regions are still limited in movement and painful. This rehabilitation requires patience, which is a virtue I find lacking. I intuitively know that I must be grateful and hopeful to continue recovering. Cheers to that.

 Here's to a 2025 that is healthier, hospital-free and full of creative projects. Wish me well.

The time is now

 

This is a large self portrait I did a couple years ago. It is pencil on paper.  I am standing in front of a poster for an art exhibit called Retratos, that featured Latino self portraits. I love this self portrait of mine because it shows me laughing with wild abandon. Just really enjoying myself fully and in the moment.

And that is how I am consciously trying to live my life now. One thing that chronic illness has taught me is that you never know when an ability or self sufficiency will be taken away from you. So as long as I remain kicking and making a ruckus in this world; I am living with the intent of "the time is now".

What this means for me is to enjoy and explore what I have as far as physical, mental and emotional gifts. And to not deny myself of many "do-able" things I want. My special form of self sabotage manifests as guilt for wanting pampering and TLC, putting off things I want for an undefinable future. 

Now, I live modestly and I am not talking about giving myself a green light to buy exorbitant or expensive items that are not wise investments. I am talking about relatively small things. For example, not wearing underwear or PJ's until they're quite literally falling apart. It is OK to splurge on new underwear or loungewear to wear around my house! It means going to the nursery with my friend DL to buy nursery plants to put on my porch because I want that beauty around me when I sit outside.  "The time is now" means hanging my art around my home and buying frames for pictures I want to display.  Spending a little on making my home more homey. "The time is now" means letting myself bring things into my life that I have longed for and are totally within my budget. Not postpone or deny myself.

These type of indulgences may seem small and no big deal.   The psychological aspect of denying myself things I want for silly reasons like guilt or " should not's" was deeply in entrenched. I am not sure where this came from; I was given everything I needed and then some growing up in my parents home. I suspect my immature political consciousness contributed to my self denial. Perhaps it is because I never really had a lucrative career; so I was always on a tight budget. And I chose to work with marginalized communities that literally were wanting of the basic necessities.  So I often compared myself to them.

This denial was not just related to tangible objects, but also activities and interests.  It's taken decades for me to realize that I can choose to work towards a beautiful world while also enjoying a beautiful life that fuels my soul.  I am calling in the bounty of the tarot's Empress major arcanum. I am encouraging daily time to make art. I am giving myself a little treats that boost my morale while I'm dealing with a lot of pain in my chronic illness and I'm letting go of any guilt.

Are there things you have denied yourself for self sabotaging reasons?