My apologies for having wandered away from this site during the year! I fiddled with flickr and facebook, but this is a good base for me to reflect on Cancun with photos and writings.

The sun is out now. My cat is on the balcony soaking up the warmth. I think I’ll join her for a splash of sunshine.

Sunlight caresses ripe tangerines on my table. Media mandarina-tangerine in Spanish- is a take on the Mexican phrase, media naranja, or one’s other half: boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse.

Since tangerines are what I have available, media mandarina will have to do.

With only a  glimpse of each other in 27 years, my visit to New York marks the start of a new bond with my sister, Alison. We shared a room while growing up. Our voices, giggles and tears mingled thousands of times before we reached adulthood.

Then I moved to Mexico and didn’t return for a generation. Long enough for both her children and mine to grow up.  Alison opened her world to me on this trip back home, and shared memories that cut the distance between us.

Ali and her daughter, Taylor Anne, Saturday morning, October12, 2008

We walked along the beach with Ali’s dog, Kitkat. In summertime, he rides the waves as all good beachbums do. A radiant afternoon light caught fishing trawlers and fluid lines of geese heading westward.

Afternoon stroll with KitKat.

The joy of seeing my sister’s face lightened by a smile. These are my interior postcards that I flip through when I need to. Accompanied by snatches of our conversations over five days together.

Alison alias Tink

Last month I visited Chiapas, the southernmost state in Mexico, and went to several communities in the region to collect textiles. My friend from Cancun had asked me to accompany her on a drive to San Cristobal de las Casas. She was going to see a family of weavers in San Andres Larrainzar who had created some items for her.

The afternoon I spent in the backyard of the weaver Francisca Perez Gomez, was one of the high points of my life. The yarn that she’d dyed herself; the embroidered huipils, or blouses, that she’d woven on the back strap loom were dazzlingly beautiful.

Here is the link to my album of Chiapas photos

I came upon this church early on Tuesday morning while walking the back streets region 90 in Cancun, and a kindly municipal worker told me the name of it. The Church of Santa Carmen, she said. Using a scythe, she was edging the scant lawn bordering the church courtyard, and interrupted her task to answer my question. This week a fair is being held from July 8th to the 16th, to honor the Virgin Carmen. The children’s rides and food carts were silent when I approached the church, but the banners crackled smartly in a lively breeze.