Joe Ray Blog

I saw a couple of vampires sitting on the curb outside a Circle K the other day. One nodded and smiled at me. Across the street in the used car lot were 5 bulls grazing. I think the vampires were waiting until they got a little hungry, then they’d go over and drink the bulls’ blood, maybe even killing them.

I nodded and felt the urge for a burger.

The clerk inside had demons. Lots of inner demons inside him. He was a big haired chain smoking demon himself from the looks of it.

He said he was working.

Demons and vampires always seem so pleasant and agreeable when you first meet them. I guess that’s why they wink and smile in such a believable manner.

This is an older piece that I had written about almost 3 years ago. Looking back it was 1 out of 3 who made it.

I’m not sure if it was in a dream or while reflecting but I thought of 3 friends undergoing cancer treatments at the moment. All 3 have had surgeries and are recuperating. Most importantly, all 3 will survive this scare.

When I was told the news by one particular friend of his cancer, I told him how sorry I was. He told me not to be sorry; there was no reason to be sorry. He explained that we all come out on the other end changed…transformed as we should be.

I admire that outlook. It inspired me.

The lovers. Lust included.

This small piece (Mixed medium collage, 7″ x 7″) is one of a few pieces I’ve done that depict lovers (Deities) gazing at each other, embracing or lusting. Either way, they’re fiery and colorful.

Before they embraced, he reached over and kissed her as she smiled and thought of an old lullaby which would help her sleep in his arms that night. But that would only be after they reviewed the scoreboard presented by the cyclops selling miniature guitars and elotes con chile on the street.

They both realized that mortals were like that.

Smiling, she raised her glass to those who doubted she could ever be free.

Under her breath, she laughed at the drunken bavosos and their caprichos nuevos.

She heard them crow like roosters as she danced, shook hips and tail solo.

For with un poco de enchantment we all toast to health and the unchecked mind!

¡Salud!

About this Sirena:

For a recent exhibit “De Norte A Sur”, this was one of 3 sirenas carved by Luciano Garcia, my friend Gennaro Garcia’s father. This is the only 1 left. If you are interested in her for your collection, please feel free to contact me.

She is about 14” tall and is made of painted wood, she just happens to look huge in front of this saguaro.

He wandered around with his tequila and grapefruit drink. Naked in the sun, he smiled & snorted loudly as he walked. He even walked loud. Walking softly was not in his make up- it had always been like this.

Ever since his ancestors were villainized by the ancient Greeks, he’d felt a bit of anger and had a chip on his shoulder as a result of that anger. A more tame Minotaur in another time would have settled for wine, but these particular times called for tequila and tart citrus on the rocks.

Crass times called for crass measures, Minotaurs would once again be respected in a badass manner.

He was ready.

Sombra Blanca

I’m not convinced all of our shadows are dark composites. Sometimes they have more energy than we give them credit for, we just seem to prefer to think of them as dark, shadowy and somewhat ominous. I’ve decided that they have their own auras. I’m just not sure what that decision leads to, but I like it.

About Sueños (Dreams)

I began to finally realize and accept that those dreams were really my departed friends and family that were speaking to me. I’m finally starting to listen.

Now I just need to find the questions to my answers in those sueños.

Red thoughts give way to bold & brazen lust. Wet lust…

These are 3 Sirenas that I recently painted, which were carved by Luciano Garcia. Luciano is my friend (and fellow artist/paisano) Gennaro Garcia’s father. Luciano is an incredible Santero whose work I admire and was able to get him to carve these Sirenas for me, based on some sketches I sent him.

Currently they’re on display in my exhibit, De Norte a Sur, with Gennaro at After Hours Gallery in Phoenix.

These pieces are titled (from left to right): Vuelo, ¡Salud!, La Roja

Here’s what I wrote on each of their bases:

Vuelo -

She swam and flew to me and asked “what is your spirit symbol?”

Before I could answer, she flew to the sea where no one could follow.

I could still hear the question as she sang.

Was it a circle? ?Un punto?

¡Salud! –

Smiling, she raised her glass to those who doubted she could ever be free.

Under her breath, she laughed at the drunken bavosos and their caprichos nuevos.

She heard them crow like roosters as she danced, shook hips and tail solo.

For with un poco de enchantment we all toast to health and the unchecked mind!

¡Salud!

La Roja –

She began to sigh as she thought about the mortal men she had encountered on her way to the sun. Drunkards, pirates and lustful malcontents on the road to ruin. Or perhaps returning from there.

She did not find them exciting – much less appealing.

Red thoughts gave way to bold & brazen lust. Wet lust.

I’m not sure when “my thing” with mermaids began. I have no clue, at least not for this lifetime.

I’ve always liked the beach, if that has anything to do with anything.

I’ve always liked cocos helados on the beach. Maybe that had something to do with it, since some artistic depictions of mermaids show them wearing coconuts in place of a bra. WTF??? Whose brilliant idea was that asinine approach to false modesty?

If you click on this Sirenas Gallery, you’ll see a bunch of my Sirenas. Also, I’ve got a show coming up with lots of new Sirenas. They mingle with Madonnas in this show. The show is called De Norte a Sur, click here for more information.

The piece above is titled Sirena Roja. Here’s something I wrote for her:

      Now free and stronger than ever, she came upon the shore and sang her song.

      Her heart would now allow her to pursue whatever dreams she could conceive as well as
      desire. She could have anything, or anyone that she now desired. Now she was both bold
      and brave.

      Her sadness had been replaced by joy, and by knowing that she was once again strong.

I like a good glass of red. Hell, I like the entire bottle. Mostly Pinot but I like Cab also. It depends on my mood and what I’m eating.

Wine is a civilized drink, best enjoyed with friends, food and conversation. I’ve never heard of cannibals drinking wine, but I guess they would eat some friends and drink while dining with other friends. Maybe that’s the Devil’s influence?

I’ve drank with the Devil. However, we never drank wine together. I guess that’s a good thing.

These 2 prints started as serigraph monoprints. I didn’t like the way they turned out when done so I reworked with paint and oil pastel, along with a little color pencil here and there. Hence the mixed medium.

One must have a touch of civilized color when enjoying a glass of wine. You’ll feel good sitting next to or under these pieces enjoying your vino.

Salud!

This piece is a little older and is a limited edition serigraph print produced at Self Help Graphics in East Los. The recent Nopalista movement brought it to mind.

Beto immediately thought of Freddy and started to cry because Freddy had been his compa since they were kids chasing putas in the trailer parks outside de Poston and by Quail Mesa.

We hadn’t eaten all day so we went to Doña Nati’s house to see if we could eat there. She wasn’t too happy to see us stop in on her…especialmente after the 2nd seis-pack.

Chapo tried sweet talking to her but the fact that he had tried to screw her daughter really pissed her off to no end. She threw a bucket of mop-water at him and called him an hijo de la chingada. Chapo laughed and scratched his balls as he took off his clothes and sang an old song by Antonio Aguilar.

Naked, he pranced into her kitchen and threw tortillas at us, then he came back outside and grabbed some nopales. That cabrón proceeded to make nopal tacos while prancing around vichi naked in front of Doña Nati’s house…all while he was singing a Norteña.

I guess that we weren’t hungry anymore – since we had eaten tacos courtesy of Chapo and Doña Nati.

There’s a certain canción that takes me back there, but I only hear it every 4 or 5 years.