The Santa Julia website wasn’t displaying properly across platforms. For one, the headers weren’t showing on PCs. So, here’s Take II.
The Santa Julia website, a work in progress.
I’m working with a 2004 version of Dreamweaver. It’s archaic, at least for Macs. I finally figured out how to upload html files (my software was buggy and needed a restart), but it won’t upload images. After spending three hours reading help files and user forums, I gave up on figuring out how to do it on my current software and tried downloading a trial version of the latest edition of Dreamweaver. But apparently, Dreamweaver is not allowing trials at the moment. So I figured I would upload the image files using a FTP client for Macs, and I found one. The trial is good for 15 days and then you gotta buy. My goal is to wrap this site up within that time and not do another website for a long, long time.
I spent all of yesterday morning–save a trip to Bellas Artes to see an exhibition on the abducted women of Juarez, hundreds every year, that the police has done nothing about–working on my cover letter to Last.fm for Lead Copywriter. After culling from 11 yrs of academic librarian experience, I realized there’s a lot that extends beyond Library Land: usability studies, designing web spaces, creating web content which is much different from print content, translating esoteric library lingo into friendly accessible user-language, sussing out research needs + emotional state in the first ten seconds of an interaction, offering online customer service, designing help aids such as maps, brochures, handouts, web guides… it all easily transfers.
Then I began searching for jobs you can do from home. Apparently, this is getting to be a big trend. Which brings up an entirely new frontier for job seekers: what space do we want to work in? After showing up to a space for school or work for over two decades, I think I would enjoy scheduling work time at home. Possibly next to a fountain in a courtyard. Maybe even with my birthday boy working from his laptop too on the other side of the fountain! There is a lot of freedom in this option. It will also expedite the FM3 process considerably as I don’t have to apply for a work permit.
The online job search begins! Which reminds me: if I haven’t already mentioned to you that I’m offering tarot readings, I am. Email me if you’re interested.
Happy Birthday to the sweetest man I know. Te amo, mi cielo.
We’re close to the centro, so oftentimes we hear the mariachis and festive happenings in the jardin. We most certainly hear the gunshots (at all hours) and the noise generated across the street at El Gato Negro. But despite the auricular cornucopia we live in, there’s nothing like having your own music to enjoy. Thankfully, I’m able to get a lot of it with Last.fm, an internationally friendly personal internet radio station. And, they’re hiring!
I’m still not sure what the deal is, but there is a surreal quality to being unemployed and walking the streets of San Miguel. For instance, yesterday, I was drawn into an art gallery (of sorts) when I saw this painting:
After a nice chat with the elderly gentleman artist, a man in his 80′s who had painted all his life, I asked how much he was selling his Pulquerria for. $4000 USD. Yikes. Way out of my price range, I told him. Maybe I’ll come back when I’m employed.
Unemployed? He asked if I would be interested in working in his gallery. I said that I would as the pieces were fascinating and ranged from abstract drawings to Mexican folklore. So he invited F & I into his backroom and told us to sit down. He spoke to F: what was his full name? What street did he grow up on? Is he “in charge” of me? Once satisfied with Fernando’s answers, he asked us if we would like to have a look around and consider possibly moving into one of the empty rooms.
Yeah, sure. The place was interesting enough and I’m always up for an adventure. I was also curious to see what kinds of questions he would ask F next about my keeping and what kind of art we would find throughout the rest of the house.
After a tour, we eventually made it to his bedroom which was fantastically cluttered with a bunch of interesting stuff: keys, old photos, books, candles, lighting fixtures, gods, goddesses, saints, paintings, clothes, hats, hangers… every space occupied something.
I noticed the pink devil incorporated into one of his paintings. This particular painting included a harem of slave women changed to a cart. Perhaps they were being transported. I began to thing that this artist’s mind reached into a dark collective. His room felt weird.
I’m pretty sure F was bored at this point as he was waiting outside and listening. I was taking pictures of stuff and the artist was taking pictures of me. As I observed the artifacts of his space, I noticed he was watching me. At some point, he mentioned that I could work off the Pulquerria in installments. At $4000, I wondered what kind of work he was suggesting.
He told me he also painted women. Perhaps I would be interested? Apparently, despite the white zits on my face which he pointed out, I was model material.
He would like to collect more nudes, he told me. In my opinion, he had a stack of them which at 80-something was possibly enough to last a lifetime. I looked over at F for a bit of diplomatic advice. F was outside with a halfway grin shaking his head incredulously. I told him I would be willing to pose in installments for Pulquerria, but only with my clothes on. To which he replied that “you can only know a woman’s soul with her clothes off.”
Her soul and some more, I thought. I thanked him for his offer to make his art accessible to me but told him I had to decline. With that, we made a hasty exit, out of surrealia cavern and pink devils back onto the sidewalk, sunshine and traffic.
Fernando and I enjoyed celebrating Mexico’s Independence Day with thousands of others last night in the jardin. It’s been nearly of week of festivities, culminating into last night’s Grito, or cry for independence, read by the mayor from a balcony. F & I joined in with the rest of the folks dancing in the rain under a canopy of fireworks and the blur of red, white, and green as Mexicans waved their flags to the music.
On our walk home, an especially enthusiastic fellow slurred VIVA MEXICO at us from the balcony of El Gato Negro, the bar right across the street from our place, while waving his flag in big circle eights in the rain.
Unfortunately, not every city enjoyed a joyous night. Tragedy struck in Morelia last night, the capital of the state of Michoacan, which just 84 miles away, isn’t too far from us. Bombs exploded during the independence celebration killing a number of folks. They’re being blamed on the drug lords.
I wonder about the girls who don’t smile. I’m drawn to them. When I photograph them, I am slower in my movements. I pull the camera away carefully. The exchange occurs with respect as I know they’re allowing me to see inside of them if even for a second. I want to hold on to that moment as long as I can.
These are some of the photographs I took at Santa Julia Orphanage today. Spending time with the girls is the best part of this website project. I absolutely loved photographing them. I left feeling so positive, energized, and bubbly around these girls. I could do this all day, everyday!
It’s Friday. It’s Karen Munro’s birthday! It’s the first day of the El Grito Festival where there will be lots of noise and fun all weekend. It’s the Toone’s Anniversary.
The Toone’s are a very likable twosome with exceptionally bright and funny kids. Today when I was attempting to put a good word in for America’s Next Top Model and pointing out that it takes talent to be a good model, for instance, say, uh, when you have to walk like a colt in stilettos down a table-top runway with folks seated all around staring up at you while you maintain diva poise and rockstar attitude, the little one commented that all they have to do to get the model to do that is put a pretzel at the end of the table.
This is our courtyard. We live on a busy street, but as soon as you shut the massive door behind you, you walk into an oasis of tranquility and quiet. I love it here. I’ve always wanted a courtyard. And now, I have one.
We live on the second floor of this very old structure. We never hear our neighbors and are beginning to wonder if we have any. We’ve been told that The Canadians will join us on the second floor in October for three months. For now, we have the upstairs floor, balcony and deck, and apparently the rest of the house, to ourselves.
Things are beginning to fall in place. I bought a nice massage table from my sweet and helpful friend, Robin. Next I’m hoping to find a space to put it and use it. I got a great deal on a pair of New Balance running shoes at Tianguis, the weekly market just outside of town. So no more running in F’s big shoes. Today was the first day of mentoring at the orphanage and the get together was a success. Everyone–the mentors, the girls, the madres–is hopeful and willing to put their best foot forward. And I figured out who Tony Globo reminds me of: Ed Fine! The other day, a smooth ride with tinted windows inched up next to us on the sidewalk. As the driver’s window came down, I saw that it was Tony. He wanted to know why we weren’t at the gym that morning. Everything about him reminded me of Ed. Both of them have easy smiles and are good at welcoming a new face in town.