My memoir, At the Narrow Waist of the World, will be published in August of next year! I’ve known this for many months and have been holding back just a little bit. Happy is a funny word. Here it means that I’m pleased to my very soul because something I’ve worked for very hard will be out there. The me closest to me will be out there for others to see (a little bit scary). There are new adventures up ahead!
In honor of your support, now and in the past—and the wonderful December holidays—let me give you a small gift by way of introduction to the book.
A man stands on either side of the painting holding the wood frame that sticks out deeply from the wall. They lift up in unison, and the painting is released. They lay it gently on the thick cloth they have prepared.
"Esto esta bonito!" one of the men exclaims. The woman in the painting fills the canvas. Her skin is the color of warm toast, same as their own. She is looking at her fingers intertwined on top of the black of her skirt, keeping her own counsel. Satisfied to be held inside the wood.
Her bare shoulders and back are angled slightly, directing the aim of her gaze. There are two large pillows at her back. The black of the skirt and the hair, the turquoise and red in the pillows, the gold in her shawl are glazed with the amber of her skin. The hues lock onto one another. They travel on the same journey, altered by the other’s presence.
"Esos ricos tienen suerte,"the second man tastes the green juice of envy before folding the cloth over the woman in the painting. They carry the painting to the van already half filled with possessions.
The woman in the painting who witnessed my life from the brick wall in the house of my childhood moves with my brother and me into mami's new life with her American husband. One of my uncles places the painting on the single wall with no windows in the always-matching bungalow of the American army post.
The woman in the painting is the keeper of my story.