Found in Mexico

Graffiti is the name for images or lettering scratched, scrawled, painted or marked in any manner on property.

Graffiti is any type of public markings that may appear in the forms of simple written words to elaborate wall paintings.

(sand graffiti at the Chruch of the Virgin de Guadalupe)

(plants growing on the side of the building create a texture like graffiti)

(personalized buses use graffiti to distinguish one from another)

marking or painting property without the property owner's consent is considered defacement and vandalism, which is a punishable crime.

(nature creates a decorative graffiti, growing moss between sidewalk bricks)

Graffiti may also express underlying social and political messages and a whole genre of artistic expression.

To be a fly in their daiquiri.. The Tropicana

In the 1950's the Hamptons went by the name of Havana, it was also located 1,300 miles south on the beautiful country of Cuba.

There was a club called the Tropicana, it was all the rage in the US. They had a private airline that would take US citizens on a dance and cocktail full flight straight to the clubs back door.

Full bar as well as full bands played on the planes. That's how famous people, like Nat King Cole, would come back and forth from America to the club.

Famous people like, Marlon Brando (pictured above), would come to dance and drink the night away. No dance was too cheeky, no costume to over the top. This is was the hight of the social scene, where there was never enough champange and a celebrity at every table.

The Tropicana attracted socialites of the day as much as celebrities. The energy must have been electric and zintrickty (my word) as lights and libations were flug around the room.

The choreographer, Roderico Neyra, who was known as Rodney, was crazy, and they let him get away with whatever he wanted because he was brilliant and he drew in such huge crowds. For one show, he filled Arcos de Cristal with ice and created an ice-skating rink.

Another show would be live animals, lions and elephants, and a giant goblet of champagne girls would dance in. The Tropicana was the first venue to feature a showgirl entrance by zeppelin.

Above is a picture of the overall club with stage where the zeppelin entered, where he fit the first onstage ice rink is beyond me. The white noise much have been absolutey astounding, I could picture myself is a haltered fitted red velvet dress drinking a crushed ice daiquiri in the at the bar listening to the waves of laughter and banter like waves on a beach, or monkeys and birds calling out in a jungle of beautiful people enjoying the scene of dancing and music making.

Puppies!

I love puppies, lovelovelovelovelovelovelove them.

These puppies were 2 month old mutts on the beaches of Mexico, transported in that box, they could not walk or bark yet, crawling around for shade.

They just don't make things like they used too..

Here in Morristown, NJ, they are home to the Morris Museum. It's not the worlds biggest museum but it has some interesting things.. Here are some photo's of an exhibit of mechanical toys and music boxes from the 1800's..

Cute little piggies.. They still work too.. The craftsmanship is amazing, the hand painting. The materials used are not just molded plastic like most toys are made these days, these museum items are composed of materials like velvet, porcelain, clay, and hand blown beads.

The mechanics, amazing! This alligator almost looks real. I think toys like this would inspire any child (or child-like adult) to play and imagine and create.

Does this toy look familiar? Mechanical Bear built in 1872, and my dog-godson Mowgli built in 1999.

This was one of my favorites; it is a music box with a mechanical doll lounging on a day bed, she could be viewed on either side of the frame, as well as viewed from different angle in the mirror placed above the lounging mechanical doll.

Mexicalways

Coming from one Latin Country to another felt like going from one (party) fiesta to another. Panama is full of people walking from one place to another, large groups standing, passing time talking with no sence of urgency or order. Then hop onto Mexico City; the air sounds of the desil trucks causing traffic jams at 2 AM. As we wait to open the door of the airplane the airport looks like we just pulled up to the titanic, stories of porthole like windows streching further than I can tell on either side. The guards whistle to me, check my bag to make sure it is mine; someone dressed pedestrian clothes is rushing up to check my paperwork is correct. If I didn't know the language I would have been sure they thought I was livestock.




Driving around the Destrico Federal is as chaotic as the airport, even at 2 AM. All of the buisnesses are closed but the streets are filled with cars and trucks taking left and right turns from the middle and side lanes. After a couple of missed exits we make it back to Buenavista to the cement five story apartment building my aunt lives in, to rest and get ready for the next day of adventure.



Before leaving on my trip people asked me; "Why Mexico City?", and in the first couple of hours I asked myself the same question. Getting out of the parking lot we are instantly met with traffic that did not end. At each stop light you could buy a; bubble making saxiphone, fresh sqeezed OJ, calling cards, get your windows washes, maybe a Mani-Pedi. When you park on the street or lot there is someone there to help you into your spot, that is smaller than a new york city apartment, and protect your car, or scratch it, depending if you pay him or not. Then we were also met with protesters, forced to go the wrong way for three turns, you don't have a choice to go to that neighborhood or not. To drive in this city my mother says everyone is in a rush, I say you need endless amounts of pacients and my aunt said courage.

After hours of disconbobulazation we parked and went for some lunch. Mexico is the home of my passion for tacos. At the Restaurant de Rita they have at least three different type of tortilla. With a packed restaurant the kitchen was a parade of smoke with dough needing, frying, plantain smushing, freshness. We got flouta's; rolled into a tortilla is chicken and cheese, they are lightly fried and then place under a guacamole salsa, lettuse, cheese, and sour cream.




I ordered Hurache; a thick masa dough hardened on a smokey street grill, topped with re-fried beans, cheese and two thin pork chops. As I took a bite of my friends steak that had been pounded thin, grilled quickly, melted in my mouth, the anger and frustration of driving melt away as well. To respect the chaos that is everything around you it allows you to enjoy all the hard work the people put into everything they do. They make easy things very difficult, but also make it taste amazing.




Ask any business owner who is the hardest workers and they will say either single moms or Mexicans. Mexico is a country of competors, they understand hard work, and they want the best/cheapest for themselves. If you put all those factors into any equation you get Mexico, when you put food into that equation that means fresh homemade food for cheap. Day one out of forty five complete and exhausted.