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visual artist and writer marisol diaz

i am a self-defined Nuyorican creative (that is a Puerto Rican who is from both the isles of Manhattan, NYC and the Caribbean). I share daily in the joy of education and live in a cute port town in New York, in a 'teensy-weensy' apartment with my two dogs and canary named Valentino. Check out my Etsy shop for purchasable pieces. Please do not reproduce imagery off of this site without explicit credit and no derivatives may be made of my original imagery- Thank You.

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This work by marisol diaz is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Entries in Illustration Friday (2)


New Art, Tonalli Exhibit, Water Painting 

El Pez Por Su Propia Boca Muere/ The Fish by its own Mouth Dies 22x30 by M. Diaz El Pez detail 22x30 Mixed Media Ink painting by M.Diaz el Pez detail by M.Diaz Me with 'El Pez Por Su Propia Boca Muere'

This was one of the first pieces I developed for the Tonalli Exhibit in Arnold Maryland his month, though it's the third piece I'm revealing here. It is entitled, El Pez Por Su Propia Boca Muere which translates to the fish by its very own mouth dies. It has three-dimensional pieces on it and is encased in a coating of resin, hard to photograph due to the gloss.

It's funny how I found the pieces which are 22x30 so large when working on them, but it appears so much smaller on the gallery wall- all the white wall space just eats it up.

Obviously this is the water piece in the Earth, Air,Water and Fire series. I know some of my students are seriously freaked out about the hook in the mouth, though I'm sorry for that, I still feel it's one of my strongest pieces when it comes to wordlessly communicating my emotions and my inability to be understood.


Spring, A Time of RENEWAL...especially for me... future

I Am Strong - Original Digital Art by M. Diaz

Anyone who knows me, knows that in the last two and a half years I got lost.

All the 21st century sages say that getting lost at least once in your life is a good thing. You know the old cliche- "get lost in order to get found..."

Therefore most people will say if getting lost is not on your bucket-list that it should be. Yet, for all the idealist advice so many of us live terrified of doing so. Like all the people with children in comforting marriages telling you, 'Live alone for a while - Spend time with yourself- enjoy yourself'...Really? How often are these same people faced with eating on a table with only a book to exchange with? Breakfast, lunch, dinner, day after day? I'd like to know if option and choice are ever considered. You see, when it came to getting lost - it was another one of those things...It crept up on me unwittingly. Even if I was faced with a life-altering action, moment, decision and choice, when I was PRESENT in that moment, I was far from fathoming the depths of cause and effect. Getting lost seems like the kind of thing we like to see other people do so we can live vicariously through them, gossip about it and stay perfectly cocooned in domestic comfort without ever getting our hands or souls dirty.

Well, I got lost. Am currently still a bit lost...

Unfortunately, I didn't get lost in space and time (something I think with all the GPS location technologies that exist would have been so much easier).

Nope, I got lost the messy way - the kind there's no road map in existence for. I got lost in another human being. And in turn, I lost myself. And on the way to losing myself, I lost the proverbial picket fence; the big house, the in-ground pool, the fireplaces, the chickens, the acreage, the husband. However, I found stuff too...just like when we were kids and our trip to the beach came equipped with special tools - that special sand colander you take along with your little plastic bucket and shovel. Watching all that mucky wet sand draining through the holes leaving you beautiful nuggets of polished beach glass. Nuggets unlike anything I have ever seen before - extraordinary novel experiences, blinding golden light.

So after much meandering in a purgatorial space of not recognizing anyone, thing or even myself - I am now on a mission to rise. Trust me, when you wake up in silence in a space you have no point of reference for, or history in, and people you thought were your most dear friends absent in a poof...crashing is easier than rising.

Now with time, I am understanding just a bit more of the abstraction that is my reflection than I ever have. I understand now there is no better anti-depressant than people, we are after all social animals no matter how much we rationalize ourselves away from our nature. And for me, one of the most dangerous acts I can commit is sequestering my soul from sharing with others. So without burdening you with anymore information than necessary, I'm going to start with my blog. For the record, it isn't about being found, or arriving, is it? It's more about helplessly and apologetically deconstructing, yet rising without apology, until the next time I fall. It is about the struggle and being strong enough to simply withstand and wake from it. It's about learning to be selfless for a while. It's a about learning to be happy in a place of vulnerable LOVE.