Through the end of February and the month of March, Artblog has been hosting free Look/Draw/Write Workshops in partnership with Taller Puertorriqueño; we are trying to show the fun in writing about art! Our first three workshops have been discussing the work of Roxana Perez-Mendez at her show Quien a buen arbol se arrima. We’re very proud of the wonderful work by our workshop participants! These are the poems written in response to her work. Join us on April 22nd and 29th for two more free workshops studying Michelle Ortiz’s show, Quizás Mañana.
Poems by Participants in the Look/Draw/Write workshops at Taller Puertorriqueño
Puerto Rico
Una isla tropical
Igual de hermosa como una rosa.
Angie Perez Borrero
Me impactó el sonido,
La tecnología, combinación
Las tradiciones y la
Manera de emigrar
En tiempos antiguos.
Evangelico Castro
Mirar las tradiciones,
del campo, la música,
El campo, me recuerda
Que la vida era mas
En paz
Evangelico Castro
I see a woman cutting
Yet at night the field burns ominously
What she cuts is nothing.
Rafael Damast
Sing out your heart, woman.
Chopping the cane at night,
In your dreams you
Fly above the little island, happy.
Roberta Fallon
Yearning for greenness
Huge leaves reaching around me
Sink deep into earth
Susan Langmuir
Walk barefoot on path
Seeking rhythm from below
Ancient mother’s call
Susan Langmuir
Escondido in-sight
Fields aflame yet full of life
¿Isla encantada?
Rafi Lev
La naturaleza es todo arte imperfectamente
Creada por la perfecta creación de dios,
En la cual seres imperfectos podemos crear obras perfectas.
Mery Mencía
Raíces del pasado, que siguen
En la sangre tricolor,
Que nos hacen transportarnos al
Origen de nuestro interior
Diana Calcano Mencía
Cacofonía de sonidos
Memorias reencontrados
Paraíso perdido?
Carmen Febo San Miguel
Whose opinion?
We’re looking at someone’s life.
Taking control of someone else’s home.
Adding a plastic filter.
What is right?
Ilana Napoli
Looking at the miniature
Tiny bodies, tiny plants, tiny stomping feet.
Who put you there? Where is your home?
Looking at this happy place that doesn’t exist, questioning myself.
Ilana Napoli
Owned by U.S.A
A tourist destination
Island in shambles
Kevin Negrón
Puerto Rico is,
Beautiful and nice.
Love my small island.
Nilda Negrón
Rubber tire sits,
Housing Taino dancers.
Happy wishful dream
Roberta Fallon
Sounds – rhythmic, happy performance
Who is your audience?
What is reality?
For me…
People, families, celebrations
Of special moments, laughing
Embracing, enjoying
Luz Marin
Discover Puerto Rico in
The U.S.A.
Discover the island in the shade
The shade of green-
And in celebration
“To be free”
Marilyn Rodriguez
Music is a way
Of life, it lets me speak out.
Music feels like home.
Abdiel Y. Jimenez-Velazquez
Lush tropics ocean,
Masks societal challenge,
Wishing to be there.
George Zolot
Mujer Migrante
Response to “Crucero,” a video performance installation by Roxana Pérez-Méndez at El Corazón Cultural Center.
“Exile is a dream of a glorious return. Exile is a vision of revolution: Elba, not St Helena. It is an endless paradox: looking forward by always looking back. The exile is a ball hurled high into the air.”
—Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses
From the island of your ancestors
To the city of your dreams
You travel each year,
Several times a year,
Once each generation.
On the deck of the New York and Porto Rico Steamship,
Rocked by the waves,
Through groups of happy tourists,
Around lonely, silent migrants,
You weave your way,
In and out of view,
Present, yet absent,
Your skirt short,
Your skirt long,
Your blouse white,
Your blouse blue,
The scarf on your head
Short and black,
Frayed and grey,
The shawl on your shoulders
Familiar and warm,
Or borrowed brand-new,
The bag on your arm
A refugee’s shapeless sac,
Or a stylish weekend bag
I see you,
Others can’t.
They claim you are the same,
One who appears, disappears,
Is barely there,
An elusive presence,
An old memory,
A longing for the past,
An embodiment of Roxana’s nostalgia
For the island,
For familia, tostones, arroz y habichuelas,
For rum and merengue,
For risas, amigos, amantes,
A mere figment,
A trick of virtual reality
Superimposed on an old photo
But I know you,
Mujer,
You are not a phantom,
Your name changes with each trip,
Your dress is different each decade,
But in each crossing,
You stand firm
In the front of the deck,
Pulling the scarf around your shoulders,
Looking out to the mainland,
Your gaze firm on your dream,
Embracing the unknown,
Your corazón de mujer, constante.
Lilvia Soto
