“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”
The time has come indeed, to move on to bigger and better things. While it’s been an amazing 5+ years with the good ol’ viedfinder blog, after a magnificent rebranding marathon, my new website is finally live with an incorporated blog. Fear not! This blog will still be live until the end of 2015, but all your old favorite posts live over on the new one. I do hope you continue to follow my adventures on the new site as so many wonderful things await. A thousand thank you’s to all of you for making this happen and letting me follow my dream.
bon appétit: food photography | provence-alpes-côte d’azur, france
“The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.”
― Julia Child
Many of you know, and many of you don’t know, that food photography is a huge passion of mine. It’s not just the food itself, but the community and cultures that humans create around food. When that is tied to my passion for ethereal light, my love of a shallow depth-of-field, capturing moments, and my yearning to eat, experience, and share all the things, the only result is a glorious collision of light hitting film and sensors capturing light as colored pixels.
It’s around a kitchen table where some of my best memories were made, where I learned from my family, and was consistently asked, “What did you do for your country today?” by my father as he took a swig of his wine and a bite of his bread…or popped an olive into his mouth, because we never had a meal without a boat of olives. It’s around a kitchen table where I learned to make tamales at Christmas time while novelas played in the background, try everything at least 1 time, spend hours protesting carne guisada despite my love for it now, and actually stop to reflect on the day and its happenings from a very young age. I was blessed to know that the kitchen table was a place of solace, a place of camaraderie, and a safe place to talk to my family. The kitchen table is a place of sharing, and there is no better way to enjoy a meal than to share it with the people who make you tick.
While it has taken me some time to figure out where my life is headed in terms of a creative career, I’m confident that I now know where I want to be. I want to be in a place that I can share my adventures and the food that shapes them, and all the stories that come along with them. Food is more than nourishment, it is a gift from God, it is an art form, and it is a precious commodity that I am thankful for everyday. To the farmers, the chefs, the families, the non-profits, and the consumers: you’re the ones who feed the world and that’s a huge job…I’m here to document every part of that.
Our trip to Bonnieux and the South of France was an opportunity to really delve into more personal work. How could you not with an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables and all the French cooking? The best food starts with the freshest ingredients, and I’m sure Julia Child and any other chef would agree with me. I believe the best food photography starts with the freshest ingredients and the purest of light. Below are a sample of photos I made that document my trip through my food, some staged, some at markets, some at home, and some at restaurants. I’m thankful that I have a family who understands that all food must be photographed before it is eaten, who knows that me going to the markets is like my brother walking into a music shop, and also who just lets me be me at the kitchen table when I whip out some sort of camera to remember something special from that meal. Here’s to the next adventure, a load of supporters, a solid quote from Mrs. Child herself, and a fury of passion..finally.
After gawking over (and naturally, photographing) all the fresh fruits and veggies from the garden at the house where we stayed, we made our way out to Goult which had the most adorable grocery store…smaller than my apartment but still fresher than anything around here. I love how the French, and anywhere in Europe really, opposes the use of preservatives. The food tastes much fresher and I can tell you the body appreciates the organic and local nature of these foods.
We spent a few nights cooking at home, which allowed for all the photos of all the pretty parts of food including family. Everything so fresh. Everything so natural. And everything just delicious.
Those fries, though.
These next few photos are from out and about. Food trucks, restaurants, markets, and patisseries. Just lovely, every bit of it.
And of course, if you’ve been following along, you have seen that kitchen window. That kitchen window let in the most glorious of light onto a beautiful kitchen farm table. When we arrived, we were gifted with three giant heirloom tomatoes just waiting for a photo shoot before becoming a caprese salad.
For my last food shoot in Bonnieux, I greeted that kitchen table with some pretty macarons from Aix-en-Provence. I mean…when in France, right? I do think, however, I had as much fun shooting them as I did crushing them and then subsequently eating them.
Thank you for traveling along with me! Again, if you’d like to see how we chronicled our trip in instagram posts, search our hashtag, #bonnieuxmonsieur. I’ll leave you with this fiery quote from someone who never let anything or anyone stop her:
“Find something you’re passionate about and keep tremendously interested in it.”
― Julia Child
― Julia Child
bonnieux, les agnels distillerie de lavande | provence-alpes-côte d’azur, france
Oh, Bonnieux, how I miss you so (rhymes with monsieur, if you’re curious how to pronounce it)! Nestled and perched high on the side of a mountain in the Luberon region lies Bonnieux, another Roman-Gothic tiny village that has vibrant life, steep streets (very very steep, which is still an understatement), and a spectacular view onto the land of les paysans (farmers). This little town, home to Les Chapelins (a small neighborhood surrounded by vineyards that climbs the mountainside where we stayed), unlike any other is bustling with life, beyond welcoming, home to delicious restaurants, and had the most casual lifestyle. While we didn’t make it to the bread museum (shucks…just more carbs for next time!), we did make it to the18th-century chapel at the bottom of the village, the market, found a lively little grocery store, and grabbed our daily croissants and baguettes from the local paâtiserie and salon de thé. We antiqued with some locals and met a lovely artist couple, Carole Sebton and Laurent Vauxion, who own Sous les toiles de Provence Atelier-Galerie who make some of the most unique impressionistic and mixed media work I’ve ever seen in person. We stayed in an old Provencal home that had been modernized, but still kept its old world charm in way of its stone sink, worn stairs, thick stone walls, and its lack of windows facing the street (cool fact: the French were taxed for the number of windows on a home that faced the street…so they wouldn’t put windows on the side of that house!).
This house was our sanctuary to everything that weighed heavy on our shoulders at home. It was one of the best escapes I can remember and easily one of the most photogenic, too! It was so photogenic, we could not pass up a 30th anniversary and family portrait shoot for Jerry’s parents. With a view fromBonnieux, across the valley all the way toLacoste, one could sit for hours gazing off past the horizon. When I wasn’t daydreaming my life away, I was playing badminton with Jerry and Tess, dipping my toes in the pool while glued to my newKinfolk and sipping sparkling lavender lemonade, I spent my mornings noshing on pastries, butter, and honey, and drinking endless amounts of espresso while sitting in the kitchen window. Tess and I also had a lovely time photographing (and eating) ALL THE FOOD (wait for the next post!), enjoying our time together with family, and occasionally dodging a scorpion. I even raced snails (escargot on the go!) and admired the beauty of spiders and their webs, rather than screaming and running away. This house had so much natural beauty and history with it’s towering trees, terraced garden full of lavender, pears, figs, blackberries, olive trees, and all the pretty flowers that overlooked the vineyards of Les Chapelins. And all the history is tied up with the key to this home… it’s so big, you could never lose it!
Go! Go! Go! Escargot!
OMG PASTRIES + ESPRESSO!
I spent probably 30 minutes in awe of this florist as she whipped up the most beautiful bouquets in merely seconds. If there was an olympic racing event for creating stunning fresh-flower bouquets, I’m certain she’d win. 
On one of our slugfest days (days where you do nothing but slug around), we went out to Les Agnels Distillerie de Lavande to see how lavender was farmed, harvested, distilled, and turned into the finest essential oil. We learned about the health benefits of lavender, too. I’ll give you a quick description…it heals everything with 1 drop. We even finished up by watching lavender get stuffed by a tractor tire into the still while sipping on lavender water (not to my taste, hence why I took photos instead). This was a very interesting and informational visit. I had no idea there were three different species of lavender that grew at three different altitudes: traditional lavender (high altitudes), spike lavender (low altitudes), and lavandin, a hybrid of the first two where they meet in a middle altitude. Most of what we use in oils, perfumes, lotions, and other aromatherapy forms are lavandin, rather than lavender, because it is easier to genetically reproduce. They all have their own different medicinal qualities too, but it seemed that lavande officianale, true lavender, had the best and most healing qualities. It also yields some of the BEST honey I’ve ever had, besides of course, the local honey from Eastern NC.
Thanks for stopping by–I hope you enjoyed our photos from Bonnieux of our epic slugfest (massive key below)!
Some really not-so-awesome-but-can’t-live-without-them instax shots of our tablescape and view from the kitchen window.
And again, our trip was, of course, chronicled in instagram posts. Below are some from this part of our trip. To see them all, and unfortunately see the nsfw spam that made it’s way into our beautiful hashtag, search #bonnieuxmonsieur.
Up next, FOOD. ALL THE FOOD. Please eat before you view! 🙂
lacoste, l’isle sur la sorgue, aix-en-provence | provence-alpes-côte d’azur, france
I think it’s ok to say that good people come to you in the most unexpected places. That would be how I’d sum up a good chunk of our trip to Provence. You might be in a pretty place with breathtaking views and decadent food, but without family and friends, both new and old, your experience will never be as rich as it could be. I don’t mind talking to strangers, in fact, I always make it a point to befriend someone especially if they are going to be in front of my camera. If I learned anything with my photojournalism schooling, it’s that if you don’t speak up you’ll never get the shot you want, because rapport is such a wonderful thing. I’ve met a lot of lovely people in the past six-ish years who have let me be a part of their story somehow. I’m thankful for the friendships and the photographs they’ve given me, and the contact that still remains. People and their stories open your eyes to a world that you may have never known existed; and it’s with these people and their stories, that your life becomes much richer than it ever was before.
This part of our trip, we traveled to Lacoste, Aix-en-Provence, and L’isle Sur la Sorgue. Each town and city is unique, but united in their laid back, southern-esque lifestyle. We started in Lacoste, another perched village across the valley from Bonnieux. In the village’s recent history, it’s known for its artistic community and is home to a Savannah College of Art and Design campus. Marquis de Sade’s crumbling castle at the top of the town is now an art museum which was started by the fashion designer Pierre Cardin. At night, the castle is brightly lit and is easily seen from across the valley. We jaunted over to this village unknowingly aware of how rich it was in the arts and how steep the roads were. We climbed from the bottom to the top on a sunny late morning in ill-fitting sandals and somehow managed to avoid slipping on the narrow and winding cobblestone streets. We also avoided getting sunburned from the limestone’s reflections of the blistering sun. The entire walk, or hike, was met with beautiful art and sculptural aspects of this tiny village. Once at the top, we stood with our mouths open at the view and the art that surrounded us. Once we were back in the town center, we were surrounded with the locals setting up for the Festival Lacoste. We peeked our head into a humble church, St. Trophime, and breathed in all its simplistic beauty. We stepped out only to find a sparkly little shop that caught our eye. Here we met Ruth, who was running a small pop-up shop selling her jewelry. We managed to walk in on the last day within its last hour. It was fate, as some might call it. Ruth was very sweet and allowed me to photograph her shop and make conversation. We talked about our love of treats, pretty jewelry and textiles, and some of the best brocantes in the region. We’ve kept in touch sharing images and our love for good photography. Her blog, Rubanensque, is a beautiful menagerie of her French lifestyle and a creative outlet of her work, family, and inspirations. My two recent favorite posts are about truffle hunting and a surprise winter snow. Ruth’s presence, hospitality, friendly persona and recommendation of the best crème brûlée made Lacoste that much more dear to my heart. I can’t wait to return this summer for a visit!
Whoa, y’all, Jerry actually posed for picture without arguing and enjoyed it.
How’d you like to be that cat with that view? Just a little jealous.
Aix-en-Provence, or the Paris of Provence, as some locals call it, always leads to a day of shopping and exploring. Last time, we came upon a quaint little dog shop and searched up and down the streets for the shop again to no avail. We did however, fall back upon the beautiful Cathédrale St. Saveur, which was built upon a Roman temple dedicated to Apollo, and houses a stunning green and gold organ (however, we missed organ practice this time). This cathedral will always take my breath away with it’s soaring ceilings, exquisite frescos and stained glass, and it’s mash-up of Roman, medieval and neo-gothic decorations and architecture. St. Saveur has been destroyed and rebuilt many times, which accounts for its unique qualities. After cooling of in the sanctuary, we made our way to a macaron shop for some sweet cookies for a soon-to-be featured food shoot.
While staying in Bonnieux, we made a few trips to the old textile town of L’isle Sur la Sorgue, which is now home to some of the best French antique markets, or brocantes, second only to Paris. Some call this the French Venice, but I do enjoy this town better than Venice itself. There are canals of crystal clear emerald green water, brocantes, and hidden gems all over. The algae-laden watermills speckled throughout the chilly canals used to power the silk and paper factories that put this town on the map. Antiquing and tourism are its current industries, the first of which we spent days supporting. After walking around in the Provencal heat, we’d end the day by dipping our toes in the chilly Sorgue River with a gelato in hand. Tucked behind gardens and gates off the main road were shops, galleries, and warehouses of antiques. La Boutique de Francine, was a favorite as it housed hoards of antique linens, silks, and clothing. These brocantes are open only during the weekend and Mondays, with the street flea on Sunday mornings. Each one had its own personality and flare, our favorite of which was where we met Robbie and Nava.
This British couple transplanted themselves in L’Isle Sur la Sorgue because of the antique industry and the calmer way-of-life compared to London. After interrupting their lunch, we bought some prints and a surprise present for Jerry, cracked a few jokes and realized that they were some pretty awesome people. They were an integral part of Mrs. Donna’s antiquing expedition and helped her find an antique stone sink, in addition to letting us know which dealers were solid and which were crooks. We checked out some real estate with Robbie and Nava, then walked around the canals, visited the overly gaudy, but still mind-blowing, Baroque cathedral, Notre-Dame-des-Agnes, and ended our day with Pastis, an anise-flavored apertíf, and sparkling lemonade. I of course, got lost taking photos of a colorful street across from the cathedral with such lovely vintage typography. We arrived the next day to continue our quest for antique tables and sinks, and then grabbed a lunch at Restaurant Le Carre D’Herbes with the lovely couple before we left town. It was one of the tastiest lunches of traditional Provencal fare served with a to-die-for Côte du Rhone. It’s hiding inside one of the galleries surrounded by vines and greenery. We then parted ways as our new friends went to go move their gallery to a new site, called Rives de Bechard. You should go visit at the very least to meet these lovely friends of ours. Just like Ruth, we’ve kept in touch with Robbie and Nava since we’ve left and hope to meet again this summer.
Hundreds of lovely little ducks speckled the canals.
Quirky entrances graced most of the shops and brocantes throughout the town.
And of course, a daily gelato stop and toe-dip.
One of the coolest things were the gentlemen who boated their way along the canal. Unlike Venice, all the bridges were very low, so they definitely had to limbo their way through.
Fig trees graced the edges of the canal as we made our way down to Francines. Some shots of the linen shop are below.
The colors and patterns that surrounded L’Isle Sur la Sorgue got my heart good. I would cage all my windows if cages looked like this.
Robbie and Nava were so full of life and hospitable. After interrupting their lunch, she could only offer fresh apricots to us while Robbie cracked jokes about us crazy ambitious antiquing Americans. I love these portraits as they really capture their dynamic and caring personalities. Below are some shots of the trip to the stone mason’s gallery, and his dog, who searched for toy rocks in the sinks.
Look at the size of that office chair. Whoa.
Vintage french typography. Be still, my heart.
And Jerry’s new favorite photos of us.
Don’t fix it if it’s not baroque! Also, don’t let people see you taking photos!
Some really not-so-awesome-but-can’t-live-without-them instax shots.
And again, our trip was, of course, chronicled in instagram posts. Below are some from this part of our trip. To see them all, and unfortunately see the nsfw spam that made it’s way into our beautiful hashtag, search #bonnieuxmonsieur.
Bonniuex & a lavender distillery are up next! À bientôt!
goult + gordes | provence-alpes-côte d’azur, france
Finally, after months of working, being caught up in life, and editing my heart out, I bring you the first installment of our summer trip to Provence. I have been dying (quite literally, Jerry might think) to publish these photos for your pleasure and to start working them into my own portfolio (more on that in a future blog post if it doesn’t kill me first). For the last few years, I’ve been blessed to travel with my husband’s family abroad for a few weeks every summer. Two and a half years ago, they fell in love with Provence (but really, how could you not?) and decided to travel back this year to explore the Luberon region, a bit further East than our last trip. This region is full of rolling mountains, lavender, golden-stoned architecture, and spectacular views through a crystal-clear sky. So clear that you can see the village from one mountaintop all the way across the valley to another mountaintop. We stayed in the lively village of Bonnieux and mainly focused on exploring smaller villages, making friends with locals, and just enjoying life…and food. Always food…and Côtes du Rhône wine. These small communities are full of artisans and antique dealers which made for delightful conversations throughout markets and brocantes. I now understand why artists love this region so much; the sky and light are so pure and the culture so warm, refreshing, and hospitable. It makes sense why Vincent Van Gogh explored this region of Provence in search of the purest of light resulting in his Starry Night. I could spend hours dazing out across the valley watching life happen below and clouds wisp around above me or days noshing on pain au chocolat while drinking an espresso at the patisserie and salon de thé while locals come in for their daily baguettes.
In this first post, I will show you some explorations in Goult and Gordes, two small villages with stunning sites, astounding food, and such a humble unspoken beauty about them. Goult is a very quiet, and arguably one of the least-known towns in the Luberon region. It is a romanesque town with a quaint square, a few shops, and a few cafés for drinking an dining. We didn’t venture all the way up to the top to see the town’s well-known windmill, however, we found the most peculiar, out of Alice in Wonderland cemetery. One of the prettiest cemeteries I’ve ever seen and we have a knack for finding beautiful ones (check out this one in Ireland, and this one, this one in Texas). After exploring the shrines and altars of deceased loved ones, we stopped at La Carillon, a restaurant for a delicious du Jour lunch of brandade de cabillaud en tartlette, vinaigrette aux fleurs de jasmin séchées, et mousse line de brocoli de parmesan…basically a delicious and highly photogenic fish and potato tart with creamed broccoli. This was then followed by a tartelette crème citron et mangue fraîche, râpé de citron combava…or a really delectable and tangy citrus cream and mango tart with syrup and lime zest. Oh, I’m drooling just remembering this meal. You can see a preview of these below in my instagram compilation.
When we landed in Marseille at the beginning of our trip, it was lavender harvesting season (literally, the day the French start harvesting this stunning, and scorpion-friendly flower). We quickly set off to find a field after we got some food in our hungry traveling tummies. Alas, we couldn’t find many accessible fields, but we did make our way to Gordes to see the lavender at the Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque. We greeted Gordes with howling winds, known as Le Mistral, and survived taking a poorly focused selfie. These winds and bad selfies, however, did not stop us from exploring the food at the market and the local chapel, St. Eloi, which was a nice sanctuary from Le Mistral.
The next day, I begged Jerry to wake up before dawn and go with me to the Abbaye, which is just outside Gordes in the Vacluse region, down a series of very steep and tightly wound roads (that are so thin and windy you might plummet to your death if you drive like I do). I couldn’t resist the morning light that graced the sacred Cistercian abbey and illuminated its lavender fields. The monks who live here farm lavender and raise honeybees as their source of income. While we stood in awe, I came across a lovely Spanish woman who was filming a self-portrait and a painter who also, loved the morning light. It was so quiet and peaceful, until of course, my shutter would click, and virtually echo off the walls of this tranquil hidden ravine. Later that evening, I returned with all of Jerry’s family…proof of this in the goofy, and probably looked-down upon group selfie below. I couldn’t resist getting some snaps of Mrs. Donna as she was overjoyed with the sight these rolling hills of lavender. We managed to escape the blooms free of scorpion stings or snakebites, however, we did meet a very friendly fox (François, if you fancy his name) who just wanted a piece of baguette and to wish us a safe trip back to Bonnieux.
Our trip was, of course, chronicled in instagram posts. Below are some from this first leg of our trip. To see them all, and unfortunately see the nsfw spam that made it’s way into our beautiful hashtag, search #bonnieuxmonsieur.
Stay tuned for my next post on Lacoste and L’Isle Sur La Sorgue! À bientôt!
caty + richard | proposal | durham, n.c.
As the week came to a close, I got a visit from a colleague at work who told me about his upcoming engagement he was planning for Friday night. It sounded so casual yet so magical: dinner and drinks at Tyler’s (where the couple’s first date was), followed by ice skating at the American Tobacco Campus, and then a surprise proposal at the pond by the Full Frame Theater. I strapped on my camera, dressed in dark colors, threw on the long glass, and acted like tourist in the Bull City as these two ice skated throughout the evening and then kissed the night away. I stalked the two throughout the night and patiently awaited the special moment. All of a sudden, after relaxing at a picnic table by the pond, Richard dropped down to one knee. His proposal was so genuine and sweet. Caty couldn’t believe what was happening before her eyes. She was quickly enveloped in shock, then bliss, and then draped in love and euphoria.
I was so honored to be able to photograph this moment in Richard and Caty’s life and am still smiling about their engagement! These two have known each other for years and started dating about a year and a half ago. These two are so full of love and it’s written all over their faces for the world to see. I’m sure these two will have smiles on their faces for eternity after their sweet engagement last night.
Congratulations, Richard + Caty! Thank you for allowing me to capture this milestone in your life and create heirlooms for you and your families! Best wishes to the both of you!
san antonio shenanigans |san antonio + luckenbach, t.x.
When one goes to Corpus, one must go to San Antonio. Home to my dad’s family and Los Spurs, we go up to hang out, eat velveeta queso and ghost-peppered pickles, shop, explore, and ring in the New Year.
This year, our mission was to find ballet folklorico costumes for my mom, so we ventured into “South San,” where we found exquisite street art, a santeria shop, a huge mural of Selena, a low road-scrapin’ dog (reference to our favorite children’s book…worth the listen, y’all), and then Wyatt made his best attempt to blend in with an army of piñatas. We finally ended up at La Gloria, an eclectic Mexican Street Food cafe with prickly pear margaritas and tacos al pastor to satiate our hungry bellies. Wyatt later passed out with Grandpa Charlie’s hairless cat on his face.
The next day, we ventured out to Luckenbach and Fredricksburg to go be tourists. Luckenbach, Texas, made famous by Waylon Jennings (“…Willie + the boys”), is a small used-to-be town that is all about beer and good music. We went real early in the morning, so we didn’t get to hear any guitar pickin’ but we did get to meet Virgil the Storeguy. You guessed it, he runs the general store, which is housed in the old post-office. Virgil is quite the joker and has the most unique and full-hearted and contagious laugh I’ve ever heard. He said he plans on riding out to N.C. on his Harley to visit his son and daughter-in-law at the coast. If you ever get out this way, Virgil, I suggest a good Eastern Carolina BBQ, hush puppies, and a solid craft beer. For those of you traveling to or through Texas, get out to Luckenbach, make sure you get an ice-cold Shiner, appreciate all the musical memorabilia, listen to a good round of guitar pickin’, stay far far away from the evil roosters, and give Virgil a big ol’ handshake and a reason to joke around!
New Year’s Eve can be summed up in three topics: Head’s Up, champagne, crappy fireworks. Either way, it’s always a good time. Grandpa Charlie acted out a t-rex, Komodo dragon, a sloth, and an elephant while playing Head’s Up. Wyatt went and bought a bag of fireworks, that ultimately failed to be as awesome as usual but were still a lot of fun. We rang in the New Year with champagne and kisses and many hopes for a great 2015.
New Year’s Day: Rudy’s BBQ + Blue Bell Ice Cream. No need to elaborate on that greatness.
And finally, today, we said adios (or a see you later) to Wyatt as he embarks on his journey to ABQ. He is going to live with our Tías, start fresh, and make awesome music. Godspeed to you and all your adventures out west (I also hope you finally befriend Chispa)! I expect killer snapchats, sweet instagrams, and all your greatness to beam out of you! Miss + love you, fool!
flores fiesta | corpus christi, t.x.
Our last night in Corpus, we had a party to welcome Chipper and Christian to town in addition to partaking in typical Christmastime revelry. And who better to show up than Tío Noe and Tío Arturo, as well! These are my grandpa’s two youngest brothers and some of the most musically talented men in our family. My grandpa used to call them mocosos, or snotty-nosed kids, because they used to play guitar all day on the porch while he worked on the ranch. Either way, these two tíos can kill a ranchera, huapango, huasteca, bolero, or corrido unlike any other Mexican cowboy.
The night continued with long lasting Flores fiesta traditions as Grandpa watched over us-music, tamales, tequila, Jalisco, and Grandpa’s favorite songs. Nothing will ever beat this tradition and I’m so glad that all of us crazy cousins are keeping them alive…even if we do need 20 pages of music to look at!
Props to my dad for grabbing some sweet shots of my accordion-playing, Frida the dog, and his sweet iPhone shot. Good job, old man!
santo niño cemetery | duval county, t.x.
On Christmas Day, we drove out to our family’s cemetery, Santo Niño, in Duval County to wish my grandpa a merry Christmas. The cemetery is now a Texas Historical Landmark and was established in June of 1908. My grandma, who should be a docent, told us stories of our ancestors up to my great great great grandparents. This humble cemetery has so much history in it and is the resting place to veterans, ranchers, and educators to name a few professions. My grandma is an avid genealogist and has traced parts of our family back to the year 608 with names and dates and is currently in the 500s with her tracing of another branch of the family (yes, that far back…1500 years ago!).
She told stories of our family’s history, how my great grandma got grazed by a rifle at the ranch, how my grandmother and sisters spent her summers at her family ranch in San Diego, Texas, how her family survived the Texas City explosion in 1947, and how my great grandmother moved her family to Kingsville to run a boarding house so they would have the money and the opportunity to go to school at Texas A & I (now Texas A&M Kingsville). I suggested my grandma start recording all her stories as they are so full of Texas and Mexican American history. Hopefully we can make this a reality in the coming years!
Our family cemetery was recently deemed a Texas Historical Landmark and we are raising money to post the sign and have a dedication ceremony (it’s that official, y’all). If you’re interested in donating, contact me and I’ll pass you along to the right people.
Prospero Año Nuevo!
a corpus christmas | corpus christi, t.x.
As years have passed and the number of drives to Texas have increased, I’m still not a pro at training my hind quarters to sit for 2 days. However, the trips still persist at Christmas time to go see family in Corpus Christi and San Antonio and I would never change it. We welcomed more family than we’ve had in recent years (mom managed to get a selfie with every person–it truly is the year of the selfie) and actually had kids to enjoy the Christmas spirit with this year!
All of Tía Dali and Tío Gonzalo’s children and grandchildren, Valeria , Dawson, Madelyn, Joe, Ivan, Juliette, Fina, Luca, and 5-week-old Victor, came to Corpus from Houston, Atlanta, and Madrid to celebrate this year. Juliette, one of my wide-eyed 4-year-old cousins exclaimed that “this is the best Christmas ever!” as presents for 43 people were piled into a mountain surrounding the spinning Christmas tree and carols were sung. None of Tía Dali’s grandchildren, except for Ivan, have experienced a Dueñas Christmas before and now I’m quite certain they’ll only want this kind for the rest of their lives. These kiddos had unlimited Christmas cookies, got to play instruments with the tías, and stay up way later then ever before. They got to hear Santa arrive as his sleigh landed, jingle bells rang and then he ho ho ho’d out the door while all the Baby Jesuses magically appeared in their manger. It was my first time experiencing Santa as an adult instead of impatiently waiting for him to arrive while being locked in my grandma’s bedroom and boy, was he magical!
As presents were unwrapped, Ivan grew concerned about how he was going to get all his gifts back to Spain. His sister, Fina, who was still jet-lagged, smiled at her feather boa and fox family, as she thanked her family for her gifts. Joe celebrated the arrival of new soccer cleats, socks, and kit kats while my grandma gasped at a plaque with her quote of the year painted on it that was gifted to the ragamuffins (scroll down to see!). Props to my hubby for grabbing some sweet photos of me playing accordion, getting the kids singing, and of them opening an envelope of a $100 bill!
Stay tuned for a post at our family’s historical cemetery in Duval County, Texas.
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