my life is an elaborate weaving of colorful threads, that at times flow elegantly. other times the threads knot and tangle. regardless I have created a fabric that in some angles looks pleasing. I have created a fabric that is compromising. my fabric is abrasive in some areas and silky when held just right. because my fabric is sometimes drug through areas that smell pungently it can repulse.
there are times when my fabric has been lofted by winds and stretched across landscapes, making shreds,creases and tear. bulging rain clouds have cleansed my fabric, with their tears, while bleeding pigments from one thread to another.
the fabric I am weaving is mindful of the weaving process. I am becoming aware of how to influence the nature of my patterns, colors, and rhythms. I want my fabric to be versatile. I want it to warm. I want it to shelter. I want it to cleanse. I want it to decorate. I want it to weather.
I expect it to stain. I think it will fade. I dread it being ripped. I know it will erode back into the soils of earth anxiously preparing to be woven again.
a blanket, shawl, rope, flag, or rug, regardless I have become aware that I can be woven and therefor I am a weaver.,,
Ron Valerio Estrada
-
There is a part of the Chicano culture that is ruthless. Even the slightest social struggle creates opportunity for deviance. My family wa... -
Part 2 The darker aspects of my culture are simply expressions of communal pain. Without diving into excuses or reasons for class structure... -
Part 3 Where did the ability to self abuse originate? If I take a critical look at the people in my barrios that perpetrated on the home...