7 Impossible Things

My warmest thanks to the exceptional Jules Danielson for this Thanksgiving interview in her amazing blog Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast. I'm a huge fan of this inventive blog that really celebrates book passion. Take a look at the interviews she crafts with writers and illustrators and I know you will get hooked.

Searching for the hidden power of ideas

Here's the second installment of a dialogue started last July called thinking your way around the concept. There is much to learn from looking and listening to the works of great artists, writers and musicians. Their journeys can add to your problem solving tool box. Through observation and practice many of these techniques and ideas started to appear intuitively in my own paintings. I long to spend an entire day-better yet two days wandering a place like the Chicago Art Institute. Great works of art reveal secrets that I often miss when looking at books or the Internet. Navigating through art galleries, literature and music is a method to record new observations and explore the twists and turns of conceptual thinking.

1. Hide a secret in your paintings.

Belgian Surrealist Rene Magritte said "Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see but it is impossible. Humans hide their secrets too well". You have to admire the way Magritte embraced paradox in his works. I created this illustration for KQED in San Francisco and embedded a hidden bird in the collage of faces. That magical focal point serves as a sweet spot that symbolically connects the people together. Going a bit deeper Magritte's technique is like a whisper that you strain your ears to hear.

It engages the viewer.

2. Add a dose of raw emotion.

A form of German expressionism, Der Blaue Reiter was an impassioned style that challenged the passive notions of history with intensely emotional, brighter colors and shapes. These artists recognized the communicative power of primitive, folk and children's art. We Mexicans have a passion for masked heroes of the vox populi. I find it fascinating that cultures around the globe that are considered primitive or very civilized use masks in theatrical, ceremonial, religious and magical rites.

Masks both hide and reveal.

When I was 5 years old my mother used to dip my finger in a bit of tabasco and put it on my tongue. As time went on I began to crave that intensity of flavor and now work to channel that raw emotion into my paintings. When looking at what you are creating, challenge yourself to turn up the volume and see what happens.

3. Explore Allegories and Myths

An allegory is a story with a meaning partially hidden somewhere in the narration. Myths help explain rituals, natural events and why people believe what they do. As a child growing up in Mexico City, my family would throw parties with music and invited poets who would recite their work and tell stories. I remember Carlos Jaso who painted vivid pictures with both his words and voice. In my opinion, when you want to move your audience you have to weave a tale that is full of magic. Whatever you do-don't be literal but take the viewer on a visual journey. Thanks to the quests of my 9 year old son Santiago, I have once again become enamored with the ancient Greeks. They know how to spark the imagination of children and adults with spell-binding stories that reveal something well beyond literal meaning.

In this poster for an International Chamber Music Festival in Mexico I fused the supernatural mermaid who lives beneath the sea with the ethereal wings of an angel. In the tail you see a Mexican calaca or skull and tear drop shapes in the wings. An eye floats in a cloud over the head of this other-worldly creature who enchants the audience with the haunting sound of her violin.

4. Find the hidden essence of an idea through simplification.

So much of the beauty and finesse of illustration is knowing what to leave out. Too much information, and unnecessary details cast a shadow over your composition and obscure what is really important. The great painter Joan Miró created childlike renderings and symbolic reductions of whimsical form with calligraphic strokes and pure color.

Think about what you are adding to your work and how it contributes to the overall concept and emotional response you want to achieve.

The roots and origins of Merengue are conveyed in this simple composition evoking a stylized African mask, with the essential instruments and dancers stripped of detail.

5. Unleash the narrative in your paintings.

Frida Kahlo's work was a fusion of folktales, fantasy and surrealism woven in a powerful narrative. Her own biography reads like an epic Gabriel García Márquez novel and the power of the narrative was evident in her work. I grew up close to her home La Casa Azul in Coyocan and together with my parents we would visit often. Frida is considered a Mexican Surrealist but it was never her plan to be part of the movement. She painted instead the story of her life in a way that expressed her own personal feelings about it. I am struck by her affection for retablos or laminas that tell the stories of miraculous healing and rescue. Often painted by untrained artists an entire wall of her home is covered in these narrative treasures.

In this spread for an upcoming children's book, My Name is Tito for Harper Collins the dress of Celia Cruz tells the story of her life and exile from Cuba in a rainbow of colors that will appeal to children and express the azucar in her spirit and voice.

6. Employ a visual synonym.

Aristotle said "The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance." Symbolists favored spirituality, the imagination and dreams. They believed that art should represent absolute truths that could only be described indirectly. Symbolist writers, poets and artists like the inspiring Austrian painter

Gustav Klimt used alluring metaphors that gave objects symbolic meaning.

In this illustration for the UTNE Reader I was challenged to convey the text of a complex concept. The antique dip pen became a symbol to express the angst of a blues songwriter and the ink is transformed into falling tears.

7. Scratching the surface

Texture is one of the most direct routes to the hidden emotions of your audience. Prolific painter Rufino Tamayo was influenced by Cubism, Impressionism, Pre-Columbian art and Fauvism. His work had an intrinsically Mexican style that ignited your senses. He left a rich legacy by expanding the technical and visual possibilities of arts by developing the Mixografia technique. This communicated the texture and volume of his designs and gave him the freedom to create strong identity in his work. In this personal piece Firedance I rely on tactile and visual texture to add a spark to the composition. I've collected a variety of tools including natural materials like shells, twigs, and feathers and also use pottery tools, masking tape and my xacto blade to give texture the surface of my paintings.

Opening Studio Doors

So much of the creative process is about solitude.

Writer Thomas Mann said "Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry."

As a painter I find that I need to spend a great deal of my time alone. When creating a children's book I work to find focus in the storytelling. A single book requires 18-20 paintings and so I am often isolated for months on end. I strive to find that quiet space, free of distractions that lets each story take shape.

One of the great contradictions to this fact is the need to nurture creativity by connecting with others, to gain inspiration and actively collaborate. This coming Friday November 4

I will be opening the doors of my studio and want to invite readers of this blog to come by. I will be talking about process and concept with a group of design and illustration students from San Diego City College. If you can make it join us next Friday November 4 at noon.

Latinos Opening Doors

Did you know that by the year 2050, all minorities combined will represent more than 50% of the population of the United States?

Leaders in education and business are already thinking about the significant impact of this new minority-majority.

The growing Latino population is rapidly becoming a major player in the economic, political and social issues that will affect this country. Latinos are the largest and fastest growing minority group in this nation but have the lowest education attainment levels. To create a strong future and vital economy we have to get proactive and empower Latino children and youth for success through education and leadership programs.

During Latino Heritage Month I was energized to be part of a lively conversation focused on issues facing the Latino community as part of ¡Viva Fest! in San Jose, California.

Economics, education, immigration, family and politics were all discussed at the table. It's important to think about the achievements and challenges of the past few years.

I believe the answers we need will only come if we continue to open doors for young Latinos through education. We have to invest our energy and passion to reach them at a young age and assist and encourage them to complete their college education.

My own role models growing up were teachers, artists, writers and musicians.

They still are.

For three decades I've been a fan of Los Lobos because they are storytellers who remain true to their roots. Listening to their songs I am walking down their callejon in East L.A. I'm impressed with how David Hidalgo, Louis Perez and Los Lobos have successfully sent their authentic blend of music out to a much wider audience. They channel Latino spirit in a way that breaks down barriers and crosses borders. Their involvement with community issues and children is something I greatly admire. In 1995 I was lucky to paint the cd cover for Papa's Dream, the best selling record Los Lobos created with Lalo Guerrero for kids. Here's a favorite early video of Los Lobos performing on Sesame Street. It was incredible to re-connect and find out the band is still as passionate about children, family, community and education.

At ¡Viva Fest! the unforgettable concert by Los Lobos was followed by the energetic Tito Puente Jr. and the dynamic sounds of the Spanish Harlem Orchestra. Having just completed the illustrations for my sixth children's book My Name is Tito and the Latin Music Legends stamp for Tito Puente it was a great opportunity to give the original sketch for the stamp to his talented son Tito Puente Jr. I was ready to celebrate the cultural and musical legacy of El Rey de los Timbales and dance toda la noche.

Creating something big

It's Latino Heritage month and that's something worth celebrating all year long. Latino artists have a great tradition of murals and it's thrilling to create something big and lasting with people you've just met. I've spent a good part of this year traveling around by plane to Arizona, Chicago and Kentucky, in a car with my map all over Minnesota, a library bus in Dubai, by bike here in California and even on foot. Visiting schools, libraries, cultural events, concerts, and neighborhoods. After all that coming and going I realize that authentic Latino spirit is central to the soul of America. We are part of the colorful threads, woven into the fabric of this great place.

I know I'm traveling under a lucky star as those threads have connected me to some very inspiring people. At a conference in Alabama I heard a powerful talk by Irene Romsa who created a unique literacy outreach project for kids called Rincon de Cuentos. Yesterday she sent this video artfully put together by Mark Grant. It celebrates the people of Fort Collins, Colorado, their enthusiasm for art and strong sense of community. Painting a mural with them was like sharing a picnic on a richly woven sarape for long hours, then enjoying a memorable meal followed by great conversation with family and friends.

Have a look at this library mural project.

There's another wall waiting in Chicago so next June I look forward to connecting with that community and creating something big.

Reflections on the Autumn Equinox

After a serious push on the paintings for my latest book I've returned to San Diego and am settling back in to the studio. The air is much cooler now and after a long walk on the beach with my son this afternoon I began thinking about the seasons of life. The California coastline that I ached for was covered in thick red strands of sea kelp and greedy seagulls were feasting on clusters of mussels. We decided that the sand dollars in different shapes and sizes were from Neptune's treasure chest but had washed ashore after a storm. Santiago and I climbed up to the highest rock along the jetty to watch fishing boats headed out the mouth of the bay. It was a good way to reflect on this 10 year anniversary of 9-11. Like others I will never forget that moment and all the emotions that it still brings. I wanted to remember how that moment brought people together. Together with my son, we watched a bouquet of white flowers tied with a red ribbon float out to sea.
























I realized this afternoon that living and working in two locations means that when I am in one place I long for the other. Perhaps that's why I had to satisfy a serious craving for fish tacos after our walk on the beach. I realize this duality helps me stay visually stimulated and so it was time to let the colors of this new season find their way to my brushes. This past week our son headed back to school with his new pencils and binder with a-z dividers and in many ways Fall means a fresh start. Strangely enough we had a 14 hour power outage on Thursday that left Southern California, Arizona and parts of Mexico in total darkness. My nephew found his way over on his bike and we lit up lots of candles then went outside and played guitars till late that night. The stars were indescribably bright in downtown and although we lose power all the time in Mexico I can't remember enjoying a blackout quite as much. I came home from San Miguel de Allende with my suitcase full of jars of paint. This was followed by a trip to the art store for the new brushes needed to replace those that had permanently bit the dust. Then it happened, my trusty old friend the blue hairdryer finally gave out. Maybe the power surge when the electricity came back on was just too much. I was about to toss it but was moved to see it covered with the streaked colors of years of past paintings. I decided it deserved respect after all those years of service so it now rests at the top of my bookshelf.

In August I turned 50 and found that like several of my friends I experienced a sense of melancholy and reflection at the changing seasons of my own life. Autumn has always been a time to turn inward and the good news is that introspection can only be good for your work. In the meantime we can savor the lush abundance of harvest and the crazy fun of Halloween with our kids and friends. Here's a Bruja-a personal piece that I painted for an artist friend who works with found objects.
























I'm a scavenger and like to play with old stuff too, so this year I started making robots to put those found objects to work.






































































This last one is an angel and on this day I remember.

Thinking in Pictures

Have you ever noticed how travel changes the way you see? French writer Marcel Proust got it right when he said "The real magic lies not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes". When I was 10 years old, my architect parents sent me on my first big trip. I left the brightly accented, sprawling concrete of Mexico City for a communal farm in Exeter England where I lived with conceptual and performance artist Felipe Ehrenberg. I found myself immersed in a world of new hues, pale whites, grays and greens with vast open spaces. Visiting London was like a book that had come alive and each time I flipped the page it was thrilling. The opportunity to see things outside my life experience changed me. My senses were completely shook up and I began to explore this new visual landscape. I needed to put it all down in my drawings. With Felipe's guidance I learned to use a printing press and produced a handmade journal that blended my adventures and imagination. On that trip I became aware that everyone regardless of their culture or language, experiences a universal set of emotions like joy, sorrow or passion.

Those early encounters shaped me. When painting I associate emotions with both color and texture because they visually tap into our shared feelings and experiences.

Growing up in Mexico I was exposed at an early age to vibrant hues that reached out and grabbed hold of my senses. I remember my childhood as a vivid swirl of color. Babies wrapped in their mother's deep purple rebozos, the bright rosa mexicano pink of tuna cactus fruit ice cream on a hot day. I find myself searching for colors and textures wherever I go and record them in my subconscious or sometimes with a camera. When I close my eyes I see these colors and textures and over the years have invited them into my work.

It's fascinating that healers at St. Jude's Hospital and the American Red Cross use color to enter the world of young people as it helps them connect to the emotions of children in need. I know how lucky I am to paint for kids and I want my illustrations to inspire and challenge them. That connection between color and feelings is basic and profound so there is no need for watered down colors or realism. They are way too smart and don't need us adults to remind them that a bus is yellow or the grass is green. Unlike adults, children are able to keep information from their senses separate and thus perceive the world differently. As we get older our senses fuse together and we lose the ability to focus on isolated pieces of sensory information.

I have found that the most direct route to the emotions of my young audience is quirky, unpredictable, magical color. Children are more likely to trust their emotions and respond to these gutsy colors with fresh eyes. When making children's books I find myself constantly challenged to spend time trying to think the way they do.

For this reason, the search for color is something I take seriously and get very excited about. This is the humble little tiendita in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico where I buy the essential ingredients for my paintings. For years I wondered why my 75 year old mother would take the time to walk to the mercado every day to buy just what she needed for the upcoming meal. Then I realized that the 20 minute walk to go buy the colors I needed for the day was a chance to think about the direction a painting was going.

In my quest for chroma I look for clues in the visual environment and make mental notes. I'm searching for colors and textures that trigger an intuitive, emotional response. I often file these images on my computer or print them out to use when the time is right. I tape them up on the walls of my studio and they illuminate the path I take when creating a book or illustration.

One day I decided to walk a different route through the countryside and came upon this beautiful old abandoned church. The facade confronted my senses and the colors got inside me. The rich textures, warmth of the reds and pinks eventually found their way into the desert scene below.

I am always amused with the way painters try out colors here in Mexico. This indecisive wall really captured my attention and flooded me with mixed emotions.

When asked to create a poster for the San Diego Blues Festival I was inspired to re-visit those colors and textures to convey a romance gone wrong. I've added a woman's face that is like a tattoo across his heart, he rolls the dice and the passion in his voice becomes a green songbird.

The beauty and pageantry of a street procession during Holy Week left a big impression on me. Our town becomes the backdrop for a celebration of centuries old traditions and authentic spirit.

When contemplating beauty my senses were reminded of how the colors and textures moved me in that unforgettable scene. I synthesized them into this painting called Colibri.

At times even the subject matter of a visual reference will directly inform my work. When traveling in Switzerland I wandered into a graveyard behind a castle and saw this wonderful sculpture that struck a visual nerve.

The subject matter and weathered textures of the stone evoked this personal piece I call the Angel of Reason.

The piece below Cuban Dreams was a direct response to the music, colors and textures I saw on a trip to Havana. I have realized the value of building a visual vocabulary by thinking in pictures. Cultivating the spirit of a traveler as I go through life means opening my senses to the emotional cues, colors and textures of the world around me.