This blog is a new newsletter format to describe the work done by Yaqui artist, scholar and healer jewell armendariz in her medicine woman art studio.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Friday, March 18, 2016
And she silenced me
She told me I liked it
He said I wanted it
He said what’s a nice girl like you in this business for?
Get out before you change for good.
You're too good,
too
beautiful,
Get out before you become like them-
tired
old,
sad,
beaten,
addicted,
But I had been born tired,
old soul,
carrying the grief for
her and protected her in the beatings.
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
She had a little bit of devil in her!
I have a little bit of devil in me.
Gods and monsters. It depends on
which you choose to love in the end. Which I choose to put my attention to. It
depends on which I wake up with and spend my day with. It can be either full
cups of cream or mostly empty. It was all my perspectives. I have a little bit
of devil in me. Like the one time my husband laid on the couch relaxing after a
fight in which he controlled my finances. I thought that I would much enjoy
scalping his skull at that momment. The thought itself brought me such
significant joy I gurgled out a burst of laughter and merriment at the fantasy
or daydream. He continued to lay their oblivious to his danger in my presence.
A year later I did try to scalp him and spent a day in the most notorious jail
in the nation being headquartered by an infamous Sherriff Joe Arpaio known
nationally and federally for his human rights abuses. I walked with a certain
knowledge about myself. I knew that if I died in his jail that I would be a
political prisoner and that it would be similar to dying in Juarez because that
is what became of me loving a Mexican. I became a woman who almost died in
Juarez. When half joking and half evil he would say to me with a snarl of
sarcasm and arrogance Remember, Chappparraaa….!! I am from Juarez. This comment
was a way to control and have me feel intimidation. As if his size alone and
professional position weren’t intimidating enough. He being six foot 200 pounds
and me being a size 4 100 pounds and no longer a 5 foot even. He enjoyed
standing over me hovering over with his weight and size to control with his
body over me. Suffocating me until I was
buried alive and then one day I had to dig myself out of the grave he left me
in for almost dead. The only thing left dangling was a sliver of love from
seven generations who looked for me until they found me and brought me home to
love. Seven generations of women before and after me came for me. I even called
in the Yaqui grand grand father who killed one of those women with his rifle
end when she stepped out of line. His only solace now that she’d escaped was
knowing the law still decided weather or not she had a home without him and she
would be left homeless if he decided. He was not done trying to ruin her life
but we all knew that in the end he would be the one lonely.
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