October 2023, NEWSLETTER Sophia Green |
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In Memoriam This month in preparation for the Day of the Dead, I am dedicating my words and time to my aunt Adriana who just passed away on October 4th in Guadalajara with her family by her side. Mi aunt Adriana was my momâs oldest sister and she raised and loved me every summer like one of her own daughters. She made us do chores and was an absolute master in the kitchen - she was the subject of my culinary school admissions essay - âWho's your inspiration to enter the food industryâ - which I won't share because it is written even more poorly than this*, but it is where I called her the Sherlock Holmes of Taste lol. When I moved there in 2016 because of my broken mind and heart - not a day went by that she didn't offer to feed me. But perhaps most importantly she taught me how to love Mexico with all my heart. |
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Mi tia viendo se radiante hace unos meses de vacaciones en Cancun âš |
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SĂ hay palabras para honrar a una mujer tan Ășnica - pero solo tengo estas y se q nunca serĂĄn suficientes. La comida, los sabores y las recetas era nuestro lenguaje propio. Tu cocina era tu estudio en donde expresabas y mostrabas tu amor para tus queridos. Todos los veranos me nutriste con tu sazĂłn, tus platicas de la historias de nuestra familia, tu humor y tu cariño - no como sobrina pero como si fuera una de tus hijas. Sin ti se estĂĄ formando otro hoyo interno junto a la de mi mamĂĄ SofĂa y mi papĂĄ. Pero como con ellos tmb puedo oĂr tu voz. Y me dices q me quieres, q ya estĂĄs en paz y me preguntas q voy a comer. Y te doy las gracias por tanto aprendizaje de no solo la comida y la cocina pero por el ejemplo de nutrir una familia lleno de puro amor y servicio a los de mĂĄs. TĂa Adriana te encontrarĂ© en mis sueños y en mi comida siempre. There are words that could honor such a one of kind woman - but I only have these, and I know they will never be sufficient. Food, flavors and recipes was our language. Your kitchen was your studio where you expressed your love for those you loved. Every summer you nourished me with your âsazonâ, your talks about our family history, your humor and your affection as if I was one of your daughters. Without you there is a hole of absence grown inside me next to my dads and my grandmothersâ. But just like with them, I too can hear your voice. And you tell me that you love me, that youâre at peace and you want to know what I'm eating for lunch. And I thank you not just for the cooking and food lessons but for the example you left us of how to nourish a family with pure love and service for others. Tia, I will find you in my dreams and always in my food. |
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1 Week in Guadalajara On Oct. 4th my plane was an hour delayed getting me into GDL exactly 20min after my aunt had passed away. This was a blessing. When I texted my mom at the airport that morning from LAX before takeoff and she told me to Uber to the hospital when I landed my heart dropped. I did not want to see my aunt sick. She had been diagnosed with pancreatic and liver cancer in the middle of July and within 2 months she was already on her death bed. I face timed with her in the middle of august which had been difficult enough but aside from being sad - she still looked like her beautiful self and the bond and love between us was still very much alive and electric. Maybe I'm selfish, or maybe I just felt realistic - by the time I was making my way down to Guadalajara to say goodbye she was already unconscious, so as far as I was concerned it was over. It was so nice being back in the city although under the absolute shittiest circumstances. It made me sad to think the last two times I was there were to bury people - my grandmother last year and my aunt this year. Apart from getting Covid (also not awesome) - it turned out to be one of hardest weeks of my entire life. I don't know where to start. Trans generational trauma is a real thing. And with the death of someone so valuable to my family and our history - I was confronted from all angles. In my family - it seems to run rampant in the case of sexual abuse. Secrets and tragedy. And the buck stops here. Breaking the patterns and choosing to heal is the only way I've ever been able to live - any other way I have found myself in states and moods of not wanting to live. So much more to say but I don't feel like it now nor here. What I do want to say is that on one of my walks through the city when I finally had had enough and took a much needed family- break day - I took myself to my favorite museum, el Hospicio Cabañas - where side note -I learned on this trip that my mom had actually volunteered there when she was in high school when it was still an orphanage. In any event I've made it and I'm making it a habit to always visit here when I go to Guadalajara to see the Jose Clemente Orozco murals and whatever the latest exhibition is. Walking in, I ran into and quickly caught up with some old friendly faces which was a genuinely beautiful reminder that I did live there once and have a really lovely life - a fun and forming fact about me that I often forget and never should. |
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Lucia Vidales - Bruja, 2023 Ăłleo y acrĂlico sobre tela |
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Lucia Vidales a young Mexican painter was having a major solo exhibition there and one painting in particular blew me away. The kind of blow you away that if I could afford it - I want this piece in my house one day - if it isn't already spoken for - isn't that just beautiful? |
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Any who. The point is I saw some inspiring art and then walked nearly 5km back towards my part of town and on this epic walk I noticed as I always did the graffiti on the walls. Some things made me laugh like the sign that read âPuto el que lo leaâ - roughly translated into âWhore is the one who reads thisâ lol. Stupid shit like that but the predominant graffiti I started seeing everywhere was a phrase that reads ESTE DOLOR NO ES MĂO. Which translates to THIS PAIN IS NOT MINE - It didn't start with you. I remember how covered with graffiti the streets get especially after March 8th - which is the yearly women's march - which is taken very seriously in GDL and from what I've seen in all of Mexico. It's a day where women are empowered, band together and take to the streets and no longer stay silent about the atrocities and violence that historically and contemporarily has befallen us. And one act of resistance has been to tag up the city streets with slogans like this. ESTE DOLOR NO ES MĂO - from what I know (which I am not claiming to know much, clearly) may or may not come from the title of a book which explains how studying our family history's could help us better understand our own anxieties and depressions and could be the source of healing our very own emotional, mental and physical traumas. [To learn more about trauma and generational trauma I can't recommend Dr. Gabor Mate and all of his books enough.] Anyways.my brain started making ideas - like it does - and I decided I want to make my cement canvases like the graffitied walls I see in Mexico. I am coming into radical acceptance that as fucked up as my origin story is, it's also because of this trauma and chance that I became committed to my own healing when I moved there in 2016. I know that concept doesn't fully come together yet in words - my hope is that if I can continue to explore these cement walls - then maybe in time - my own experience will come to make more sense too. |
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Sophia Green, Puto el que lo lea, 2023 cement and spray paint on canvas, 34" x 24" |
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*I lied. May I please introduce you to my 24yr. old self applying to culinary school; âMy tia Adriana is my inspiration to enter the food industry. She is the eldest of my motherâs four sisters. Her natural ability to distinguish even the mildest flavor in food is quite remarkable. This unique quality of food detection makes her the Sherlock Holmes of Taste. Her ability to identify every seasoning or ingredient in any dish, not only makes her a genius (in my eyes); but the most fascinating part of this all, is her talent to re-create any dish she wants. And does this without any hesitation or concern. She is by far, the most confident cook I have ever seen in action⊠Having spent all my summers since birth in Mexico, and being a slave for good food, spending time in her kitchen, watching, helping and listening to her was and still is my most comforting moments being away from my parents those long summersâŠHaving had the opportunity to learn and admire from this kind of pureness, lack of ego, acceptance of criticism, and most importantly, a lioness passion for food: is what has pushed me to want this life for myself." |
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la Cocina de mi tĂa Adriana 2022, Colonia Ladron de Guevara, Guadalajara |
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Until the next, Thank you for reading me đ |
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