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Welcome students and colleagues, friends and family, if you have made it this far, I encourage you to stay a bit longer and read about some of my work. The writings reflect many of the thoughts that I carry with me throughout the course of a day, evening, and often times, the dreams that take hold of me while I sleep. The verses represent the inner voice in me that speaks of the past, the present, and the future. Writing is my ultimate form of expression that allows me to reflect, inspire, get well, and grow. The energy that feeds my work, I pull from themes that correspond to Mesoamerica, my ancestral place of birth, and the area I study. References to symbols of the past, deities, and natural phenomenon, dominate certain pieces, and blend with current verses of life, love, and death. I have never taken a writing class... the only "style" that exhibits my work is the one that I create from my imagination, heart, and dreams.

I’m an avid builder and horticulturalist, and so I spend a lot of my time building things and growing different types of herbs and plant food. I do not identify as an artist nor do I make art for aesthetic purposes; my work solely materializes a ritual-ceremonial or utilitarian function. The craft of working with wood I learned from my father, by watching him design and build homes throughout much of my adolescent youth. I also learned how to work with stone by watching my uncles construct brick and rock landscapes, in the wealthy neighborhoods were they labored during much of the 1980s, when construction was booming. My paternal grandpa Juan was also a craftsman, hence why all his sons became builders of some sort, and so building has always been an integral part of my family’s trade history. I learned about plant cultivation from my abuelita Mercedes on my paternal side and my abuelito Severo on my maternal side. Much of the landscaping strategies that I learned from my grandparents came with them from Mexico when they migrated to Alta California, in the early 1960s, along with my parents. A lot of the building and planting strategies that my family has implored have been in use for over 3,000 years. It is my purpose to revitalize and sustain these ancestral practices through ceremony, household building, and plant cultivation.

My fascination with building and growing food is not only familial, but also physical-skeletal (see my Physical Anthropology 101 blog), and because so, I have an admiration for the morphology of the human hand. The hand is unlike any part of the body, and because we use our hands every day, we literally take them for granted, sometimes failing to notice their full potential use. Our hands are our first weapons of choice in an attack, yet they are the first part of the body that we extend when helping or consoling someone. With our hands, we build shelter, writer letters, prepare food, and unknowingly, make love. Our hand-digit coordination is unique because it is precise, well adapted for creating, and for using and making tools. Hand-digit use coordination has been a part of our human evolutionary past since we inhabited arboreal environments, way before we developed bipedalism. When combined with tool use, the creative use of the hands has the capability of decolonizing our minds and bodies.

My inquiry into the relationship between hand-bone morphology usage and social behavior remains in the early stages. Nonetheless, some preliminary findings I modeled in a recent paper where I discuss the role of the hands, and early human tool making, in the creation of spatial wellness. The paper is published in Vol. 3 No. 4 of the International Journal of Development and Sustainability.


Alongside Castlehill Drive


I’m slowly pulling away from the institution, and only if it lays out my bed and offers me comfort will I pursue that one final dream. And than I think about those that will be forced out, what happens to them? I’m healthier localizing the household clinic, here in the home, alongside Castlehill Drive, and my neighbors. The solution is local, long-term, and sustainable.
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MESONET 2014


DEVELOPING A CRITICAL CONSCIOUSNESS IN THE COLLEGE CLASSROOM, AND BEYOND, THROUGH MESOAMERICA’S FOUR TEZCATLIPOCA’S, AND THE COYOLXAUHQUI

Santiago Andres Garcia, M.A.
Rio Hondo College, Division of Behavioral and Social Sciences, and Cerritos College, Department of Anthropology

ABSTRACT
In this paper, I discuss ongoing efforts to develop a critical consciousness among college students through Tezcatlipoca, Quetzalcoatl, Huitzilopochtli, and Xipe Totec (The Four Tezcatlipoca’s), followed by the Coyolxauhqui. The methodology, minus the Coyolxauhqui, first took form in Tucson Arizona (See Acosta 2007) when used by Curtis Acosta to develop and strengthen the learning capacity of high school students in an English literature classroom. Surveying the material culture of Mesoamerica, and Spanish colonial documents (codices), I discuss the cultural-historical-visual context of the Four Tezcatlipoca’s and their supernatural characteristics. To build on Acosta’s model, I add the Coyolxauhqui, and discuss these five patrons in a sequential and circular order, and how doing such promotes health and wellness by method of self-reflection, ancestral and acquired knowledge, and the will to act (agency), transformation, and sacrifice. The action-oriented model parallels traditions grounded in applied anthropology and ideas of praxis, further linking education, and aims to ignite the agent in all grade learners, to help solve contemporary problems. As risks continue to grow at various levels of society, the visual and material culture of Mesoamerica, can lend itself to aid positive health and wellness, and the building of sustainable living practices, so rests the challenge.


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Una víbora


A veces te me traspasas en forma de un suspiro
Desenrollándote por dentro todo mi cuerpo
Tocando cada órgano
Dejando un poco de tu ternura
Quedando seducida en mi hígado
Favorecida por mi alma

A veces te me apareces como una víbora
Entrando primero por mi boca
Quedando entrenzada en mi lengua
Ubicando las esquinas más frágiles de mi cuerpo
Marcando mi piel con tus colmillos
Amanezco todo desnudo

A veces oigo que citas mi nombre por donde estas
Pero solo es viento soplando
Al volteare, el viento me acaricia la frente con
toda su fuerza y me imagino que
siento tus cariños.  Pero solo es el viento.
Y te extraño mucho
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And in that same dream

When one dies they still manage to live on earth. In the form of a whisper, or a rain. The wind, or a suspiro. You receive all their messages in a vivid dream, you even get to hold their hand. And in that same dream, even the living, you get to talk to them, and be on an even plane... After having gone through so much…
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