Every woman has a special place where dreams, hopes, and secrets are guarded. It also contains our strengths and weaknesses, vanities of all kinds reinforced sometimes by false confidence or unfounded insecurities. And all of them are entangled with love, passion, and faith.
Religion, social, and moral rules, has not made it easy for women from the beginning of time. Some of us fight to become free from expectations of what we should be. And even thou, those expectations change with time, new ones become more difficult to meet. We become victims. But whose expectations are we trying to meet, ours or theirs? And by falling into this trap, how close are we to our true self? Why women have to please the world? And why our own judgment has to fall like a sharp knife dissecting our natural beauty, and becoming a mold of false ideals?
But I have chosen to satisfy mine, and for it, I will be punished.
For this exhibit I have chosen eight women that for one reason or another I longed to be part of them. I dreamt they were the first of the firsts great of greats grandmothers. I wanted to inherit a part of them. What I didn't know then as a child was that I already possessed a part of each of them.
I was busy playing God and creating wings for my dolls to fly.
Religion, social, and moral rules, has not made it easy for women from the beginning of time. Some of us fight to become free from expectations of what we should be. And even thou, those expectations change with time, new ones become more difficult to meet. We become victims. But whose expectations are we trying to meet, ours or theirs? And by falling into this trap, how close are we to our true self? Why women have to please the world? And why our own judgment has to fall like a sharp knife dissecting our natural beauty, and becoming a mold of false ideals?
But I have chosen to satisfy mine, and for it, I will be punished.
For this exhibit I have chosen eight women that for one reason or another I longed to be part of them. I dreamt they were the first of the firsts great of greats grandmothers. I wanted to inherit a part of them. What I didn't know then as a child was that I already possessed a part of each of them.
I was busy playing God and creating wings for my dolls to fly.
The first woman I chose is Eve. She is the mother of humanity. My heroin. She wanted more out of her life in Paradise, and by going for it, she was punished with pain during labor. But for me, that kind of pain is a gift that once experienced is forgotten. So I ask myself, what type of pain could it be? Is it moral, ego-physical, or self-inflicted pain by not being true to our innate nature? Also, I think that God wanted her to become herself. She was not punished because she wanted to empower herself. It was the moment she became aware of her nude body. She punished herself and not God. God already knew her vanity would consume her.
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Marie of Magdala is another woman that has captured my imagination since I was a kid.
Growing up in an all girls Catholic school, we learned about the sinner that was forgiven by Jesus. However, it was hard to understand at that age the sins that were attributed to her. Just like the first time I was accused of doing something wrong. I was 6 years old. I drew paper dolls in their underwear, in another sheet, I designed their outfits. I brought it to class to show to my friends. Everyone loved it, and some of them asked me to make some for them, which I did. I was caught drawing the paper dolls in class by a nun, to which she grabbed me, took me to the rectory, and called my parents. The accusation " Ethel is drawing pornographic material". I had no idea as to what that word meant. However, I gathered, it was not okay to draw panties and bras. But, I knew how to get out of it, I said loudly, it is a bikini!!! In that moment, I realized that I have lied in order to defend myself from a false accusation. This is why I have my personal thoughts about Marie Magdalene which I interpret in this painting. ENTER 
Georgia on my mind… Georgia O'Keeffe was in my list of persons that I wanted to meet. The day she died, I had to cross out her name from it. I imagined her beautiful frail body floating above the dessert. The sky exactly as those that she used to paint. In her delicate hands she holds one flower. That flower is her heart. She inspired me in so many ways. I loved to look at her black and white photographs taken by her husband. Her naked face was so strong and confident, that I wanted to radiate that same strength and confidence that only freedom can provide. ENTER
Remedios Varo, had an amazing fantasy. Exploring her paintings is to enter a world of magic, mysticism, and symbolisms. Also her paintings are intense and precise in lines and shapes.
I love all of it in particular the use of symbolisms. A painting is a story beyond immediate comprehension. We have to take off any masks we are wearing in order to discover the meaning of her work. The complexity of her paintings are a web of the inner world of our mind and soul. This is why I love her paintings so much. It is an internal odyssey of self discovering. ENTER |
Aphrodite, goddess of love, beauty, joy, procreation, and pleasure had in her favor the power that entranced men to her knees because of her physical appearance. But at the same time it was a curse because men did not take responsibility for their lust.
Aphrodite represents the types of love a woman chooses to experience or that can fall victim. I had a lot of fun with Aphrodite. While creating her box, I decided to write her diary. I imagined Aphrodite as a non-ageing pop-star. I went through my diaries during my adolescence. Lots of hearts and lots of crosses, I was not a pop-star but a young woman experiencing my heart . ENTER 
Joan d' Arc was a young woman that broke all the barriers of that time in order to free herself from the future she did not want. She knew that in order to do it, she had to conceal her femininity. She was smart and courageous. She wanted a life that was not suited for girls. She wanted to be free from her role of becoming a woman of that time, and what was expected from her as such. Her fight was not so much as a fight to free her country but a fight to free herself from all the barriers that were ahead of her. But they knew. And this is why she was raped before being burned at the stake.
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My mother said to me, from love not one dies. I am not sure as to what kind of death she was referring to. Because for sure, Camille Claudel died very young from a broken heart. She was a great sculptor. She had the gift, strength, and ability to create her beautiful sculptures. She was great until she fell in love with Rodin. And from there she lost herself. Was it madness that destroy her? Was it the manipulation of her family that brought her to breakdown into pieces? Or was it just love. When I see Camille Claudel's sculptures, I perceive her sensual and sexual energy that was exploited by Rodin. She was a young woman smitten by her teacher. She entered into a relationship that had nothing at her favor. She was pure talent. She was pure force. When Rodin refused to leave his companion, and after Camille had an unwanted abortion, she punished herself by allowing others to take over her life by confining her in a mental institution. At that moment she decided to die, and with it, her divine gift of creation.
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When I was a kid, my parents when to Mexico visiting various cities. My mother told me about the city of murals, Diego Rivera, and his wife. But she could not remember her name nor she was recognized at that time my mom went. But I guess, whatever she saw during that month spent in Mexico, was an amazing experience. My parents took various photographs where they stand in front of gigantic murals by famous Mexican Artists.
Years passed by, and I came to realized in the eighties that the wife of Diego was Frida Kahlo. Studying her paintings, I realized how open, transparent, and candid she expressed her soul and energy. I loved it. I also started to become more open about my internal feelings and experiences. I have written in my secret diaries since I was a kid my internal world. However, to paint it and then to share it for others to see, it takes courage. Frida had courage. She loved and suffered immensely. She is a great artist that has taught me so much with her works. Thank you Frida! You had fed me from the time I discovered you! ENTER |