When I was around 16 years old was the first time I remember feeling confused about how I handled gratitude. I was given a gift and remember feeling grateful but also paralyzed with what to do. Was I supposed to save it for later? Was I supposed to open it right then? I’d only ever opened presents during Christmas or during a birthday party. Well, apparently I was supposed to open it right then. The person let me know I had hurt their feelings. I didn’t want to appear greedy or as though I only cared about presents and that’s why I didn’t open it.

The next time I was confused was when a friend began giving me thank you notes and cards for different occasions. It was so frequent that I had to ask myself, “have I been neglectful of giving thanks my whole life?” I never sent thank you notes at all. It wasn’t something I was raised to do. The self-judgement I felt was intense. Over the next few years I worked hard to be more thoughtful and giving. The truth is, when I have the thought to give a gift it often ends with “they’re going to think this gift is stupid.” I don’t know where I got that type of thinking.

I began taking the risk with my friend. I noticed she opened the gift immediately and met it with squeals of excitement every single time! Often it was followed with a hug and kiss on the cheek which was also quite foreign to me. A thank you card was sure to follow. Was I supposed to send a thank you card back to thank her for the card? You might think that’s ridiculous but one time she did that very thing and I had to question it. The gift giving was fun and I’m glad it’s something I do more often. The thank you notes were and are a struggle (except the notes to customers which I love writing).

This had me question how I was raised to express gratitude. What I noticed when I began observing my family is, it is often unspoken. It was a non-verbal energy exchange full of expression. When my aunt made me a Barbie cake, she did so to make me happy and she was happy when she saw my face light up. I hope I said thank you but I don’t really remember being pulled aside to say it. (I know my own children have the recollection of being pulled aside). I also remember peeking at my cakes in the fridge and admiring their beauty! Were we not a grateful family? It is absolutely not the case that we were not grateful. Gifts and acts of service were received with an understanding. The understanding was “If I love you, I will show you.” Thanks and love were both expressed in this way.

The problems began when I moved away from my family. The feedback I received indirectly was that I was unloving and ungrateful. Now that I understand colonization, I understand the miscommunication. In my culture, gifts often consisted of food, and handmade items. Someone once told me there is a Native proverb “If someone likes you they will buy you a gift, but if they really love you they will make something for you.”

I can’t tell you how many times I can recall receiving food and handmade items. This is the reason I have so many blankets! My grandma made blankets for everyone and for everything. I treasure my blankets and the time I spent with her in the sewing room full of fabric scraps. I don’t really recall many verbal exchanges of I love you. I recall being bitten, being pinched, being squeezed, being danced with and mostly being together. I felt loved. It was not until later that I began to question whether my family loved. In this new insecurity I began to tell people I loved them. I began asking people in my family to tell me thank you and now I’m not sure how I feel about any of it. I still straddle both ways of being.

All I can say is that I appreciated the times people let me know I hurt their feelings when I didn’t respond a certain way. As we move forward in this global society, it’s critical that we ask questions and assume positive intent. It’s also important to realize there is no right way.

Here is my interpretation of those infamous scraps done sustainably just like grandma’s scraps!

I saw a post on social media that said “It ran in the family until it ran into me.” I thought about it as I was out running. It was one of those nice running days where the weather was perfect and I was feeling good and strong.

I thought about the extraordinary trailblazing women who have come before me. They were landowners, homeowners, business owners, divorcees and so much more -- all in times when it was difficult to be any of those things as Native/Chicana women.  

I have always admired the intelligence, strength, perseverance, independence and take-no-shit attitude of those women. So I thought, “they did it all!”  Then it hit me.

I was accompanying a friend to find a pair of jeans (many of us are wise enough to know this is a feat that requires support). I began to tell her how the words of another person made me mad! There it was, my go to response. I know this feeling well. It rises up from my belly to my chest and out my mouth comes the monologue. Oh, the monologue my dad taught me well! I remember him telling me how the pen is mightier than the sword and I also remember the torturous lectures which never allowed for a two-way discussion. This brilliant man could speak like few I’ve seen in my life. It holds true today. (I have a fond memory of him negotiating chicken prices with ferocity while winking and smiling at me, and it solidified the power of words).

Everything I brought forward from the women in my life in combination with my dad’s lessons meant no one could ever hurt me. I have been called intimidating throughout my life. I could go into a whole bit about how I have had to be this person to ensure my voice was heard or I had a seat at the table, but that is for another day.

As I began the monologue I went beyond the anger because my Masters of Counseling program taught me “anger is a secondary emotion.” (I had to wrestle with that one. They weren’t wrong.) I allowed myself to talk about what hurt me. This is something I’ve consciously worked toward. Then I took it a step further and let myself cry and really truly feel and know what hurt me.  Up until the past few years I took pride in saying I had only cried a handful of times in my life. I even had a good laugh with jean girl about it.  She said “every time you say “I’ve only cried five times in my life” I chuckle and am curious--because it’s not who I know.” She has created a level of safety I’ve never known.  

Two things ran in the family until it ran into me. I now allow myself to express and share vulnerability. I think I’ve also made it safe for others in my family. Along that vein, becoming a counselor made it possible but also normalized mental health care in my family.  When I think of the trauma my grandmother alone endured, it has left me speechless. 

Strength can become a weakness when it prevents us from truly allowing ourselves to feel. This in turn doesn’t allow us to connect with others. That connection is why we are here. If intergenerational trauma is real, I hope I am healing for my family.

I downloaded a revelation last night as I slept and dreamed of watching a swarm of eagles in their nesting area. Looking up the meaning of eagles in dreams I came across this interpretation: “The eagle is trying to tell you to listen to your intuition more. You should stop acting like a recluse and don’t try to hide from everything that scares you. Face your fears because that’s the only way you can win fear. Your dream also foretells a challenge you will have to overcome. Don’t do things to prove others you can do it, but to prove yourself instead.”

Well there it is. I have been holding on to something and it was suddenly clear this morning. I remember creating this painting in 2017 and thinking “I wonder if it will be liked.” I remember feeling shaky when I revealed it to my friend and told him "just take it!" If I give it away, I never have to know if people think I’m good enough to be paid for my art. Shoot! I struggle with this too? I found myself in an internal battle: That fear makes no sense, I am fierce. I know who I am. Have I been covering my insecurity all of this time with a facade? What does this mean?

The eagles from my dream urged me to remember my value and worth. Not to give my art away unless it is my intention from the start. It was my fault though I tried to place blame on my friend. I hurt myself in the exchange. Only in my own authenticity will I truly find what I’m looking for: the freedom to create what I want when I want. I’m not quite sure how to do this but I am clearer on the damage done when I don't face my shadow.

The time we currently find ourselves in is all about facing our individual and collective shadows. I know now that my shadow is about looking for approval. I must accept myself, first and foremost. I must know my value. I see how my grudges, fights and judgements are all rooted in this shadow side. I think artists are prone to this feeling. On some level I knew it was there. Afterall, each time I release a new item on this website I feel a bit sick.

The funny thing is that I tell the students I work with all of the time “you are perfect as you are” and am so confused when they don’t understand they are. I revealed a new creation today and I see how damaging my insecurity is as I work to claim who I am in my ancestry without technically having enrollment! I get to decide who I am and once I know that, I will not have to fight with anyone about accepting me.

Darn, I see now it was a keeper.

After receiving feedback that the reclaimed wood, old growth earrings looked heavy I decided to create this video to demonstrate how lightweight they are. I ...

Here is more detail regarding my process and materials in creating sustainable art. I did not mention the wood used is more than reclaimed. It is old growth: “Old-growth wood refers to wood from trees that belonged to forests that grew up over hundreds of years. A majority of today’s lumber is harvested from trees that have been cultivated to grow rapidly, so the wood is not as dense. As a result, it is weaker and more susceptible to decay and instability. Old-growth wood has nearly ten times the number of growth rings per inch (meaning that it is much denser) and is more resistant to decay or damage.” Because of this, the jewelry is much more stable and strong.

In this unique time in history, many people including myself are finding themselves in the kitchen cooking and baking from scratch. Though no one would describe me as a good cook, I come from a long line of restaurateurs and entrepreneurs. I tease that my Martinez family has many business owners because they don’t like being told what to do! In truth many before me were also very creative, hard-working, brave, highly intelligent and stubborn! That stubbornness was necessary because it wasn’t easy to have a minority owned business.

So I share with you now my family recipe. Yes, it’s quite different from my usual painting and jewelry posts but it is nonetheless creativity. I remember the meticulousness with which my dad wanted each plate leaving the kitchen. Enchiladas were to have the right shades of lettuce wrapped around the edge of the plate with exactly four thinly sliced tomatoes. He wanted the contrast between the yellow cheddar cheese against the vibrant red chile to be highlighted with shades of green.

I hope you find this recipe to be easy and delicious. I also hope a few of you can share stories of your time at La Cantina or stories of my stubborn grandma. As my memories start to fade, I treasure any new story.

I told my parents they needed to stock up on some groceries as the news of more and more closures began.  They are two of the most resilient, skilled and, frankly, badass people I know.  Their generation possessed many trades that my generation took for granted (and we are in danger of losing).  

As we began to stock up on a few necessities, a wave of disappointment came across my body.  How is it I got to the point of relying on so many packaged products?  Sometimes we are forced to take a hard look at ourselves.

I told my sister-in-law that I wished I was with her and my brother in Leadville.  Growing up in the way I did, this sort of global shut down would not have phased me in the least up there.  My father and brothers hunted, my mom and grandma processed the kill and knew how to hunt themselves.  To be honest, I think my mom was a more skilled hunter than some of the men in my family.  That little 5’1” wonder was incredibly strong!  Uncles and aunts were a part of many of these processes and I long for the communal living.

I remember growing up with a stove that required the wood we harvested as a family.  Each day after school it was my job to start a fire to keep the house warm.  I remember having canned fruits and vegetables around from my grandma (I don’t remember eating them because I don’t think I ate anything other than bean burritos with extra cheese for several years of my life).  As far as water goes, it was all around in the form of snow if not  out of the faucet.

Here I am realizing I don’t touch the source of my food.  I continue to say it is a goal but make little progress.  The mantra continues to ring in my head “return to source.”

My dad sharing his knowledge.

I love the Maya Angelou quote above. Sometimes I don’t want to forgive myself for things I’ve done in the past, but then I realize I didn’t know better. Guilt is tough!

I have known that I wanted to do better for this growing artistic venture, but I didn’t know how until now. As I’ve said before the packaging I use is recycled, the wood is reclaimed USA barn wood, some of the shirts are organic cotton and bamboo etc.

I don’t want to compromise when it comes to the planet. The earrings come with either 14k or sterling silver attachments for several reasons but primarily so that those with sensitive skin are more likely to be able to wear them. Now I have the best of both worlds. I have found the high quality metal, sourced in the USA through Rio Grande Jewelry, and they have recycled metal!! I will be switching over each of my products and all new products will be made with recycled materials minus the 14k gold which is not recycled but is sourced in the USA. This makes my heart happy today.

The climate strikes are about to occur and I wonder how many people will show. I have decided to take the day off and drag my middle schooler along. I often wonder whether it makes a difference but we recently witnessed the power of people overthrow a leader, and I think it has to matter. I created a series of earrings while thinking about the planet this weekend. Recently I heard a Native person speak on Youtube and he said “We often talk about our rights, but what about our responsibilities?” It really struck me. He discussed how it might be a very different country had they created a Bill of Responsibility over a Bill of Rights. I was at the store and asked the cashier why they ask everyone if they want a bag and he said people get angry when they don’t offer a bag. Huh, I guess that is our entitlement in a nutshell. The funny thing is, most everyone was walking to the counter easily carrying their item in-hand and mindlessly taking a bag. Oh I know, the response of “I reuse it.” Well, guess where it ends up after your kid takes it to school full of smaller plastic baggies? If you recycle it at the grocery store, do you realize it can only be recycled so many times?

I have also been thinking about perfect vs imperfect. I can do so much more. We can do so much more. How do I not drive myself insane with guilt for the way I live? I am beyond imperfect. I guess I am hopeful we wake up to the little things we can improve. Let’s stop being sheep and following the routine of:

“Would you like a bag?”

“Yes, thank you.”

It is our responsibility to change our habits for the benefit of everyone. It is not our right to destroy the planet because we cannot be inconvenienced or much worse, mindlessly following a routine.

So I spent the weekend sanding the real and imperfect reclaimed wood so that I do not contribute further to the destruction of resources for the laser wood that cuts perfectly.

Start at 2 min. 37 seconds https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqfvUA2vRAM&list=LL45io2lQqO_St6H0S5PnsbQ

The spelling of my name is not traditional. Technically it should be Porfiria (like my grandpa Porfirio). When I’ve searched the meaning I typically come across “stubborn” and “the preferred one.” I’m not sure about the second description but I know I’ve been told many times that I am stubborn. I know it can be a negative attribute and it has stuck me negatively in many ways.

More recently, I have come across nothing but obstacles in trying to share my art in a wearable and sustainable way. Time and time again I come across “we’ve never done that before.” Wait…what? For example, the art on my shirts can be reproduced using less expensive shirts with plastisol inks, but stubbornly I pushed until I found a screen printer willing to take this on with water based ink and sustainable fabrics.

Next I decided I wanted to make earrings. My sister-in-law cut a few of my designs a few years back and they were beautiful. I was ready to add some to my website. I decided I wanted to use local and reclaimed wood. It sounded easy enough. In all of these projects, I thought time was going to be my biggest obstacle, HA! I quickly came to realize the “wooden” earrings so often sold online are not actually pure wood!? First I was upset that I had fallen into another trap as a consumer. Then I was insecure that my earrings were not “perfect.” The wood grain is evident and the engraving is not completely smooth.

As I was staining the earrings with teak oil, the message I had chosen for one of the designs smacked me between the eyes. “A beautiful thing is never perfect.'“ So, I present my latest creation made of real reclaimed walnut or reclaimed USA barn wood provided by another local business Front Range Timber. They have been amazingly kind! I’ve come to realize they are perfect in what I set out to achieve.

Sometimes I tell myself I’m too busy to paint. Really I know it’s because I’m afraid I can’t produce the images that run across my mind. Other times I know I don’t care how my creation turns out, and remember that I love every part of painting (except cleaning the brushes because this Colorado weather really dries out my hands!).

In truth I have been too busy. I have been lost in helplessness, sadness and anger. For some, those dark thoughts are the key ingredients for a good creative process. Thankfully they are not mine. A few middle schoolers are being called names from a part of our history we pretend we’ve moved away from. Their friend’s parents taught them to “be nice to everyone.” Well, I know that message is not enough. I have been too afraid to move forward in my message to students. Brene Brown talked about courage and knowing it comes with backlash, mis-steps and failure. I’ve been so afraid of delivering the message in just the right way, as to not get parent complaints about some agenda they perceive I’m pushing. I’m embarrassed to say it out loud. Is that really ALL I’ve been afraid of? The work is too important to delay.

I needed this message today for many reasons. I hope it helps you to move in the direction of whatever has your heart a blaze. Here are some rocks I’ve painted and paired with graphic elements. Thank you simple backyard rocks for reminding me, I can paint directly from nature.

This weekend was the 5K held by the school I work for. It’s a wonderful philanthropic event in which our blessed community gives back. I enroll my boys every year. We like to run and hike (because we live in CO as you know and it would be crazy not to enjoy this beauty on a regular basis). My son won the 5K last year, and is in his prime teen years. I saw him coming down the sidewalk next to another younger kid. I was thinking “he’ll kick into high gear any second for the win!” He did not. I was confused and a bit disappointed.

Later he told me that he had the chance to talk to the 7th grader who won and asked “have you ever won a race?” to which the students said he had not. My son chose to let him win and told me “why would I want to out-sprint a 7th grader?” Essentially he told me it meant more to that kid than it did to him.

Suddenly I was so proud of him! Simultaneously I was disappointed in myself for being disheartened when he lost. All of the wisdom and peace I’ve worked so hard to aquire had been thrown out the window. It was a beautiful reminder. I spent the rest of the day growing again by pushing my limits with paint. I ruined two pieces of art, but there were some parts of that ruined painting that were beautiful. I’ll focus on those and grow.

I’ll never forget 8th grade science class when we watched a video about the dolphins dying in the fishing nets used to catch tuna. I couldn’t stop crying. It was when I first understood the cruelty of the world. It’s when my activist was born.

I know how to be heard. I know how to fight tirelessly for what I believe in. What I am still learning to do is trust the process. I am learning to do what I can while also not losing my mind! Art has always been my meditation before I understood the word.

Speaking of climate, when I’m creating is the only time I am completely unaware of the heat, cold, sound or lack thereof. It gives me peace and I remember “You cannot have a positive life and a negative mind.” -Joyce Meyer

What does living the M.A.D. lifestyle mean? I’ve spent some time thinking about this and the one thought that came to mind is the sticker hanging in my office which reads “Sorry I’m awkward, sorry.” That shiny silver sticker makes me laugh constantly because I want to say it to someone I run across daily.

I am a middle school counselor, it should make perfect sense. Obviously I am an artist too. I was sitting in a Hay House lecture one day a few years back (you know, searching for the meaning of life) when the speaker said “Creative energy is healing energy!” In that moment it had not occurred to me that I could heal through art. I am a servant to Mother Earth and her inhabitants and my life has served a meaningful purpose as a counselor. However, when challenged with the idea of my true purpose being what makes my heart skip a beat, I know it involves art.

This endeavor terrifies me…challenge accepted! The Modern Ancient Design logo embodies duality which blend to create perfect harmony. I know there is strength in difference! (I can’t separate the counselor in me).

Here is the start to my next shirt design.