MADRID a hidden gem!

By Loren Escandon
It took me only a one hour flight and a 50 minute drive to get to MADRID. 

Are you wondering how I made it to Madrid so fast from Denver? Well, this Madrid is a charming town with a population of 300 people in the Santa Fe County of New Mexico.

I was looking for a quick drive from Albuquerque for my off of work weekend. I had already visited Santa Fe, which is beautiful, active, cultural and a little to wealthy for my simple taste. So I decided to Google towns within an hour from my initial location. I found Madrid, a old coal mining town in the 1900’s, abandoned in the 1960’s, and claimed in the 1970’s by a bunch of self named Hippies. I asked a couple of people from Albuquerque about this European named city and no one seems to know much about it. So I decided to rent a car, set up my phone’s GPS and hit the road to this clandestine town.

The drive there through 14 North was breathtaking. The arid color of the soil spotted by the green short bushes goes for miles like a blanket over the mountains and the valleys.   I would highly recommend not to blink because one could drive by and miss it! Madrid is pretty much 3 blocks of local owned galleries, restaurants, jewelry shops, more galleries, a book store, a chocolate boutique and a photo park.

It seems like 90% of the habitants are artists of some sort and the sense of community hangs in the air. Walking into the galleries I noticed a pattern “Hello, this is my work, but you will find here work from 20 local artists. Please feel free to ask any questions.” And by asking questions was how I found out that most of the people are not from Madrid, not even from New Mexico. New York, Missouri, Colorado, Maryland, even France are the suppliers of this Bermuda Triangle where people get lost with gusto. I heard more than a couple of times how they had come to Madrid, just like me, for a day or passing by on their way to San Francisco and had decided to stay because those 3 blocks made them feel like at home. 

Everyone is eager to talk about the history of the town and their own stories. They are friendly, open and if you have the misfortune to run into a mean person, my case with the server at Mama Lisa’s, you just forgive him because everything else is so perfect. However, I should confess I am still pretty hurt by it because that place has the reputation to have the best food in Madrid and I couldn’t try it.

Anyway, I went to The Hollar instead, the second top choice from my friend at the Eclectique store. Initially, service did not look promising. I sat myself, by a waiter suggestion and waited for the menu 7 minutes. I took the initiative to help myself grabbing a menu from the bar and waited another 7 minutes for someone to take my order. At that point I lost track of time when I got distracted by a snoring Boston terrier sitting right next to me at the wooden bench. Then I noticed that the place was not only pet friendly but dogs have no collars or name tags and hang with visitors in the cafes and restaurants like they own the town. Well, they do. 

After enjoying my steak tuna sandwich made from scratch and a glass of local sparkling wine I kept walking up and down those 3 blocks. I discovered amazing artists like Jill Shwaiko at the Indigo Gallery or the teenager, Alicia Stewart, at Metallo Gallery who not only paints with the maturity of a grown woman but also writes poetry as a counterpart to her paintings. 

I finished my day stopping by Shugarman’s Chocolate. A little one man show place owned by Harvey Shugarman, Yeah, that is his real last name. As soon you walk in, a rainbow of chocolate scents welcome your senses and Harvey treats your palate with samples from his daily creations. Pink pepper, French white chocolate, red chili mangos are just few of the ingredients enhancing the organic chocolates he gets from around the world. He is like a Willy Wonka in the middle of Madrid. 

The time to leave had arrived, the stores were closing and my budget was running low. I hit the road again, right on time to see the orange sun sitting over the flatness of the valley. I felt fortunate finding this little gem in the middle of nowhere. 

Find more information about this unique town at:

http://www.visitmadridnm.com

THE FLOWER POWER.

Four Elements - Earth/Tierra

By Loren Escandon

“Painting saved my life,” says Colombian artist Alicia Maria Vallejo.

Her beginnings with art were rough, because as a little girl in the Conservatory of Music in Cali, Colombia her music teachers did not see any talent within her; "The professor ignored me completely" says Alicia. Fortunately, at the age of 9 she had the chance to travel to England, where she decided, in secret, that painting was her thing. "I spent long hours in the museum staring at the art without getting bored, but I never tried to paint.”

Life and curiosity led her to study Urban Anthropology, serving in this field during the administration of mayor Antanas Mockus and Enrique Peñalosa in Bogota, Colombia. After a certain period of time and without the political influence necessary to renew her contract, Alicia was unemployed for a period longer than anticipated. It was then, in her early 30s, that she decided to get into painting classes, as a way to reduce the stress the situation was causing her, "The classes were for older women who were going to complain about their husbands and their maids while painting wooden boxes" recalls Alicia while she burst out laughing. This was the beginning of what is now a life dedicated to painting.

Flowers of our garden - Enredos de Pasión

Several collections have been part of the process to find her style. After painting everything within the reach of her fingertips, from wooden boxes, to chairs and coasters, Alicia began to paint on canvas. Influenced by Mexican and Dominican Republic arts she created a tribute to the Afro Colombian culture named The Colors of Colombia. Subsequently, the influence of Warhol did its part with the collection Urban Color and she experimented with appropriations of famous works of Van Gogh and Picasso.

"Painting is therapeutic and very emotional for me" states the artist, before explaining how the series Flowers of our garden was created. “This series marks a time of rebirth and hope” express Alicia with intensity. That same intensity is reflected in the variety, fragility and flower power in her paintings. It was with this collection and without total consciousness that Alicia found her present style, "Now I don't see myself painting without my flowers" she says. And from one flower to the other, she has been able to implement innumerable ideas, landscapes and feelings to her creations. Series like Four Elements and Arboreidad are proof of this.

Colombia, Belgium, Monaco, Beijing and New York have seen Alicia’s flowers in all their glory, it is now the turn for Paris. The Museum The Carrousel Du Louvre, is the next stop of this wonderful artist, who has been able to infuse her art with apparent simplicity, with her Colombian roots; the colors and aromas of culture influenced by its two seas and a chain of mountains that offer the perfect inspiration for her soul.

Asking Alicia the meaning of arriving to The Louvre, she answers with simplicity, "It means that I have believed in myself, that I have given free rein to my heart and passion. Because let me tell you that painting is not easy."

Arboreidad - Arbol de la Paz-Ciencia

This mother, daughter, sister, friend, anthropologist, professor and good cook influenced by the energy of her late father Mr. Jorge Vallejo, a soul filled with wisdom and patience and by Monet, is ready to share with the world  the happiness and tranquility of her work, "I cannot paint sadness," says Alicia and it is true, her work draws a smile on peoples soul. 

Painting classes with the artist at Trazos

The Carrousel Du Louvre October 24 - 26, 2014

By Loren Escandon

Are you registered?

By Paula Thomas
Last week, while waiting for semantics class to start, a cheerful, young lady walked into the classroom carrying a folder full of papers and a friendly smile. "Hello, my name is Kate and I am here to make sure you are all register to vote," she said, while the room full of apathetic students tended to their notes and books.
"We are a non-partisan nonprofit organization and our work here in campus is to facilitate the voting process for students, like you and me, in the upcoming mid-term elections," she said strutting back and forth.
The room was ghostly quiet and it felt as if she was talking to the wall behind us. She kept trying to engage her audience with statistics like in the last elections only 1 in 3 students exercised their right to vote, "only 1 in 3," she said almost shouting. But it wasn't until she brought back history that she finally stroke a light and we were, suddenly, listening.

For decades the only ones allowed to vote were white males of higher economic and social status, then open suffrage (or the right to vote) was given to all white males regardless of their economic status, but women and African American men were excluded. 
After the civil war, in 1869 African American males were given the right to vote; but it took women another fifty years of activism before they were allowed to vote.

"People fought for their right to vote, for their right to be included in the decisions made by politicians, because those decisions affected them the same way the decisions politicians make now affect us, that is why we have to go out and vote and be inform about the issues and how they are being handled," Katy said with intense enthusiasm.

And she is right! Why have we become so lethargic about our rights, about the issues that affect our current reality and the people offering to speak for us? I must confess, I find the subject of politic daunting and frustrating, but so are many other things in life and that doesn't mean that we turn a blind eye on our problems, we face them. Katy made me realized I was wasting the sweat and blood of all those women who worked tireless to give me the right to speak up.

Perhaps in those times people had more interest in the effect of the laws voted on and the people elected because they didn't have screens [television, computers, tablets or smartphones] to keep them entertain with a fake reality of the world. They actually had to live with those realities and those decisions everyday and had little to focus away from it.
Even the slaves at the end of the Civil War were more in-tuned with the correspondence between the towns that involved the war and its outcome, as explain by Booker T. Williams in his biography Up from Slavery, "The slaves on our far-off plantation knew what the issues involved were, often the slaves got knowledge of the results of great battles before the white people received it."

So maybe we can use technology to our advantage, and between the Buzzfeed test to determine what is your color, the article about the 12 Reasons Why Sam The Cat With Eyebrows Should Be Your New Favorite Cat, or the latest celebrity gossip, we could, maybe, find time to look for articles, websites or non-partisan organizations that would help us make a more informed decision when we receive the ballot in the mail after we have diligently registered.

So, Are you registered?

If you need information on how to register to vote in Colorado
Click here
Other states, click here

RACE Are we so different?

By Loren Escandon

The first time someone was curious about my skin color, I was 4, It was in kindergarden when I got approached with the question and my answer was “I am grey.”

Living in a household with a white father and a black mother helped me jump to the conclusion that grey was, without a doubt, my race.

I wish things were that easy from there on.

A long conversation with my parents came after that, where It was explained to me that I was in fact a Mulata. Growing up I felt more black than white and every time, without exception, that I manifested my feelings, people would rush to correct me, “No mija, you are too light to call yourself black” or “No mija, you are too dark to call yourself white.” So they, again without exception, would try to make me feel better by saying, “No mija, you are a “Cafe con leche.”

The circumstances never got better, specially living in my native Colombia, where people have been brainwashed in believing we are a white society. However, I kept identifying passionately with my black roots.

I blamed Colombia for not wanting to have a honest conversation about race, racism and equality of opportunities. When I moved to the United States I had the hope things would be different.

Here, in the US, it was not worse, definitely not better, but different. I became part of a big bag of multiple cultures, religions, believes and races called Latinos. I was lectured the first time I identified myself as mulata, because it was “politically incorrect” to say the word. People throw bad jokes at me when I identified as Colombian and I refused to be labeled as Latina.

Many years passed by before I moved to Denver, Colorado, but after being here, not too long passed before people made comments about my accent, my skin color or simply ignore my presence.

Social Media Effect

Yesterday was my Facebook birthday, my real birthday was sometime ago. Why would you do that? I was asked. Why have a different birthday on Facebook? Identity theft was my answer.

Identity theft is a growing problem and we all know it. We complain about the government sticking its nose in our private lives, yet we have no problem in neatly outline it on our social media profiles. We are  eager to share personal information, like our birthday, address, hometown, graduation dates and email address, together with our picture. For a thief any little morsel is helpful. What is your favorite movie? your dog's name and birthday? Could any of the above information be a password you use for a bank account? In 2013, 13.1 million people were victims of identity theft, every two seconds a new person falls in this trap.

A few months back, the email that was connected to my Facebook account was hacked. Later, my bank account was blocked for trying to access it with a wrong password to many time. But I didn't attempt to access my account with the wrong password, so who did? We decided to change the passwords for all of the important accounts after my husband's bank account was blocked for the same reason. This time we didn't use the obvious name and birthday combo or pet name; and that is when I tried to erase my birthday information from Facebook, unsuccessfully. It's like a hostage program you can't get out unless you close the account. Having family and friends around the world who post fun pictures of their families and adventures kept me from closing the account, so I changed the information.

Social media is a great way to connect and communicate with loved ones, or to create a professional profile that allows you to develop followers, which is the reason why I use Twitter and Instagram. But, perhaps we step back for a minute to analyze what type of information we are sharing that could get us in trouble.

Thanks for the birthday wishes, I missed them on my real birthday!