The above photos are a sampling of some scarves I painted while in Mexico. The next two photos are are of the Paroquia which is the focal point of the jardin, or town square, (other photo)where everyone gathers any time to day to visit.
Como esta?
For those who would like to know a little more of the history and flavor of this place we find ourselves, please read on. Otherwise you may skip the next couple of paragraphs and just read the info about what we've been doing.
The tale of the origin of San Miguel de Allende begins with the Chichemeca and Otomi Indians living close to the earth until a kindly Franciscan father arrived to enlighten them. The colonial story unfords literally inside San Miguel homes, where a heroic priest and a colonel conspire to overthrow the Spanish Crown. It climaxes when modern travellers discover that this little mountain town, four hours north of Mexico City is a paradise. San Miguel de Allende is a site of fiestas and miracles (in fact, a common greeting between friends who haven't seen each other in a while is "Que Milagro" or "Ït's a miracle.") It's a place of esstatic religion and fiery revolts, unearthly beauty and curative air - a place for dreamers and artists (probably why we are drawn here.)
Set in an agrarian region with wealth derived from the nearby silver mines (which we'll visit next week) in Guanajuato, San Miguel served as a traders stopover. In past centuries there were slaughtrhouses here for the many local ranches nearby and there were various tanners in town. In the late 1700s, residences were built and later, after the Revolution of 1910, and the violent Catholic counter revolt that followed, the town fell into a slumber, the old colonial homes sinking into decay, the fiestas ceasing and the churches and monasteries languishing. A train running between Mexico City to the Texas border stopped at the foot of San Miguel to take on water, collect mail and discharge or admit occasional passengers.
An educated Peruvian vagabond named Felipe Cossio del Pomar debarked from the train in the 1930s, became enchanted by the place and founded an art institute on the grounds of a large hacienda. A gentle resourceful, eccentric American, Sterling Dickenson, arrived about the same time as did Jose Mojica, a Mexican opera star who built a rambling home bordering Juarez Park. A massive deserted nunnery in the town center became another art school. Soon after World War II, some young Americans came to study art on the G.I. Bill. Life magazine wrote an article "How to Live in Paradise for $100 per month"(You could now probably live her on $100 per month. San Miguel gradually gained popularity among artists, backpackers and some foreign retirees. Years passed and journalists began writing up this "hidden gem"in the travel magazines. When a new closer airport shortened the trip here by half, tour agencies started providing travel packages.
Before long, burros gave way to autos (though I saw two working burros today). The old ruined facades became sleek hotels and bars, and the square thronged with t-shirted tourists. Many old timers and locals are fleeing - seeing it as a "tarnished Eden." For us who didn't see it before these changes, it's still a uniue and very real place. I'd like to think that San Miguel, steeped in 450 years of custom and tradition, it's population still over nine tenths Mexican, would - like an Italian hill town - remain safely inured from the worst effects of this.
San Miguel still offers winding narrow lanes, cobblestone streets (which I recently learned improve balance and lowers blood pressure. I hope my doctor is reading this.); patios and rooftop gardens and church bells to "refugees from the techno future."provide blessings less easily measured - magic, silence, clean air, a slower pace - a place that feels not fabricated but very real.
Some of the history I just quoted was gleaned from a fascinating book Ön Mexican Time"by Tony Cohen. I've just begun Tony's second book "Mexican Days,"which is set in the changing world that he encounters as he travels Mexico - both old and new, the msty mountains and coastal Caribbean towns of Veracruz, the ruins and resorts of the Yucatan, the indigenous world of Chiapas, markets and galleries of Oaxaco, teeming Mexico City, remote Sierra Gorda mountains, Guanajuato (where we're going next week), and Myan ruins of Palenque (all places we'd like to visit).
Doug is continuing his Spanish classes and practically speaks like a native. I'm painting each day and visiting the many art galleries. We've met some locals, visited friends and are learning each day to enjoy the hidden mysteries and beauty of this little village and understand what draws people here.
For those who would like to know a little more of the history and flavor of this place we find ourselves, please read on. Otherwise you may skip the next couple of paragraphs and just read the info about what we've been doing.
The tale of the origin of San Miguel de Allende begins with the Chichemeca and Otomi Indians living close to the earth until a kindly Franciscan father arrived to enlighten them. The colonial story unfords literally inside San Miguel homes, where a heroic priest and a colonel conspire to overthrow the Spanish Crown. It climaxes when modern travellers discover that this little mountain town, four hours north of Mexico City is a paradise. San Miguel de Allende is a site of fiestas and miracles (in fact, a common greeting between friends who haven't seen each other in a while is "Que Milagro" or "Ït's a miracle.") It's a place of esstatic religion and fiery revolts, unearthly beauty and curative air - a place for dreamers and artists (probably why we are drawn here.)
Set in an agrarian region with wealth derived from the nearby silver mines (which we'll visit next week) in Guanajuato, San Miguel served as a traders stopover. In past centuries there were slaughtrhouses here for the many local ranches nearby and there were various tanners in town. In the late 1700s, residences were built and later, after the Revolution of 1910, and the violent Catholic counter revolt that followed, the town fell into a slumber, the old colonial homes sinking into decay, the fiestas ceasing and the churches and monasteries languishing. A train running between Mexico City to the Texas border stopped at the foot of San Miguel to take on water, collect mail and discharge or admit occasional passengers.
An educated Peruvian vagabond named Felipe Cossio del Pomar debarked from the train in the 1930s, became enchanted by the place and founded an art institute on the grounds of a large hacienda. A gentle resourceful, eccentric American, Sterling Dickenson, arrived about the same time as did Jose Mojica, a Mexican opera star who built a rambling home bordering Juarez Park. A massive deserted nunnery in the town center became another art school. Soon after World War II, some young Americans came to study art on the G.I. Bill. Life magazine wrote an article "How to Live in Paradise for $100 per month"(You could now probably live her on $100 per month. San Miguel gradually gained popularity among artists, backpackers and some foreign retirees. Years passed and journalists began writing up this "hidden gem"in the travel magazines. When a new closer airport shortened the trip here by half, tour agencies started providing travel packages.
Before long, burros gave way to autos (though I saw two working burros today). The old ruined facades became sleek hotels and bars, and the square thronged with t-shirted tourists. Many old timers and locals are fleeing - seeing it as a "tarnished Eden." For us who didn't see it before these changes, it's still a uniue and very real place. I'd like to think that San Miguel, steeped in 450 years of custom and tradition, it's population still over nine tenths Mexican, would - like an Italian hill town - remain safely inured from the worst effects of this.
San Miguel still offers winding narrow lanes, cobblestone streets (which I recently learned improve balance and lowers blood pressure. I hope my doctor is reading this.); patios and rooftop gardens and church bells to "refugees from the techno future."provide blessings less easily measured - magic, silence, clean air, a slower pace - a place that feels not fabricated but very real.
Some of the history I just quoted was gleaned from a fascinating book Ön Mexican Time"by Tony Cohen. I've just begun Tony's second book "Mexican Days,"which is set in the changing world that he encounters as he travels Mexico - both old and new, the msty mountains and coastal Caribbean towns of Veracruz, the ruins and resorts of the Yucatan, the indigenous world of Chiapas, markets and galleries of Oaxaco, teeming Mexico City, remote Sierra Gorda mountains, Guanajuato (where we're going next week), and Myan ruins of Palenque (all places we'd like to visit).
Doug is continuing his Spanish classes and practically speaks like a native. I'm painting each day and visiting the many art galleries. We've met some locals, visited friends and are learning each day to enjoy the hidden mysteries and beauty of this little village and understand what draws people here.
