People With No Names: The Undocumented #116

These are roofers in Tucson, AZ.  Roofing is hot, dirty work but someone needs to do it...because we literally need roofs over our heads.  So until non-immigrants want to get up there and do this job,  immigrants will do it.

People With No Names: The Undocumented #111

This 6' by 4' oil on unstretched canvas is of two women recently deported from the United States.  I realize that I made the hand (on the woman in the back) too small...especially when you consider the amount of work she probably does with that hand!  They are both separated from their families who live and work in the United States,  a United States that is growing and changing. The "we" of "we hold these truths to be self evident" is always growing and changing. It now includes people of both genders, people of every ethnicity, and... as always...people from other lands. Who is the "we" today?  The "we" includes 11 million people from Central America and Mexico who are deemed 'unlawfully here' by the people in power today.  Tomorrow, the power may shift and the "we",  like any living organism,  need to grow and change or we will begin to die.  What to do with 11 million immigrants who are working and paying taxes in the United States of America?  At great cost to taxpayers, we criminalize, expel and build walls to 'attempt' to keep them out of "our" country.  It would be cheaper (not to mention kinder and more effective) to enfranchise and welcome people.  I was touched today, to hear that the country of Jordan is continuing to welcome Syrian refugees.  It is a strain on their water supply and economy...(and they are asking the international community to come alongside them)...BUT it is fundamentally WHO the Jordanian people are, to be a people of 'hospitality' and as such they must welcome refugees. 

People With No Names - The Undocumented #43

This handsome immigrant is from Brazil. He is a "green" aviation developer-i.e. "Environmentally Responsible Aviation". He and his wonderful wife (a lighting designer) are taking their talents and moving to France. See, we are all immigrants.

why i paint what i paint #10

While I have been having technical difficulties with my computer I have continued to encounter people and ask to hear their stories. It is amazing to me that when we become aware of any particular human condition, suddenly we see it everywhere we look. I have been focused on the specific situation between the U.S. and the countries immediately south of the border (Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador). But on Saturday, the N.Y. Times ran a front page article on the people of Iraq trying to re-enter their country (after fleeing the conditions of the war). The Iraqi people have fled to surrounding nations, and sought new lives as immigrants...but you guessed it...the welcome mat was not out! ( In a compelling way the article told the personal stories of three families, and one was seeking on-going cancer therapy for the mother, because her doctors had all fled.) So the Iraqi people are trying to return home. But the situation is untenable because of the lack of food, work, infrastructure, doctors, teachers, safety...so they are sadly realizing that they will have to re-flee. As if to make the point more real to me, I had the following encounter in a Goodwill Store later that same day: I was looking for treasures and bumped into a 'head-scarf wearing' elderly woman. We both excused ourselves and then she commented that the merchandise was "very nice" (in heavily accented English). I decided to ask her where she was from, and it turned out that she had exhausted her supply of English, so she turned to her daughter. She told me that they were from Iraq and that only she, and her mother had come to the U.S. The rest of the family was dispersed all over the Middle East and Europe. They were profoundly sad, and profoundly grateful to just all be alive, safe, and in the midst of such wares (Goodwill...they asked if I had the privilege of working there).

People With No Names - The Undocumented #32

This is another oil sketch on canvas (15"x 21") of plant nursery workers in the Northwest. One of my children is visiting this weekend from college, and tells of a recent discussion in her English class. Her professor is positing the idea that everything we do, choose, wear AND say, is rhetoric. Beyond words, all of our choices and actions are seeking to communicate our life hopes and desires in a powerful way. I often think that immigrants, especially those who don't speak English, cannot speak for themselves. But in the context of 'life rhetoric' their choices speak loudly and clearly. The act of leaving a life, family, and culture behind, traveling to a foreign place (on foot!), taking almost nothing with them, argues forcefully for the economic necessity and desperation driving our Mexican and Central American neighbors.

Monk Librarian #5

On Sunday our first reading in mass was from the book of Amos8:4-7. "Hear this, you who trample upon the needy and destroy the poor of the land! Sounds so timely. The poor are still being abused and exploited. Today on NPR's Fresh Air the author David Rakoff was talking about being in the trenches when his friends were first dying of aids, and sometimes going to multiple hospitals in one day to visit them. And he said that it was odd because there was a war going on, but it was a particular and private war that many people around him on the street had no knowledge of. Now David Rakoff has an aggressive cancer that may claim his arm and shoulder and maybe his life. And he thinks back to those friends he has lost...and along with his own fervent will to live...it remains in his mind that all the people that he knew, that did die, didn't die because they wanted to live less than he does. They did not die because their desire to continue existing was found wanting, in ways that his desire is not. He says that has been tremendously instructive to him. (It is instructive to me too as I think about the poor and the immigrants.) He also said that as he faces disfigurement and possible death he still feels great gratitude, he says, "I am so far ahead of the game, I have great medical care, I live in a country where I don't have to make sneakers for a living, I don't live in a toxic waste dump..." and here's the main thing..."you can't win at all the contests and then not win at one and say, 'why am I not winning ALL the time'.

The Monk Librarian #4

Yesterday I went to Nogales, Mexico to meet with Immigrants from Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador. As I heard their stories, I kept hoping that I could, in some small way do them justice as I depict them visually. Their lives are characterized by: uncertainty, loss and physical hardship...things that can befall all of us...but in their case are pretty much a constant. By my accident of birth, I live in the illusion that I can prevent many of these things. I marveled at the ease with which I waltzed back and forth across the border...twice in one day!! I had no fear of the border patrol's guns and dogs; but trust me , they DID look very scary.

People With No Names - The Undocumented #10.

I found this group of cheerful , hardworking men rewiring a school in Tucson, Arizona.

People With No Names - The Undocumented #9

These dear undocumented people took all the dead, thorny branches out of huge climbing roses all day, with no gloves. They have not been home for four years. When they return to Guatemala, they hope to be able to buy wiring and get electricity for/to their house.

Doubting Artist #3

Yesterday when I finished painting in my studio, I had those old niggling doubts. You know, "Why am I doing this?" "Is it important'' Then I walked out and got the mail. A Cuban friend wrote to me to express interest in my project with immigrants and to tell me of two new sources for subjects and information. I have noticed a pattern in my life...just when I begin to feel discouraged, a tangible encouragement comes along. I hope that next time I feel discouragement coming on, I can stop and say, "Hey their must be something good just around the corner!"

People With No Names - The Undocumented #5.

Eight families from Central America and Mexico share and farm this six acre organic raspberry and strawberry farm.