What Day of the Dead Means to Me

A close-up of a Day of the Dead altar with chiles an photographs.

When I was a little girl, I used to draw pictures of graves. Specifically, graves you might find in a Mexican cemetery. Crosses, with Virgin Marys, and candles, and offerings of bougainvillea. For about six months, headstones were my prime artistic focus. I spent so much time drawing graves that my parents were actually weirded out. And it took a lot to weird out my parents. I guess you could say that I’ve always been morbid. But I’m not goth […]

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