El Charro, the cowboy, displays his skills, finesse and pride during the many charreadas or rodeos that take place in Mexico, every weekend, it seems. Climbing dusty trails to reach quiet sunny pueblos along with men, women, children, horses and burros, you arrive at what appears to be an empty village, all quiet on the Mexican front. You go to the corral and see women making tortillas, slapping them in their palms, a chance to eat some hand made from freshly ground corn tortillas and have a cold drink, what could be better, it is heaven although nothing else seems to be happening. Yet soon people begin to drift in, cowboys all dressed neatly and some with a young woman riding with them. Then they really begin to arrive, legions of men on horses swinging ropes and doing their tricks, dancing their horses as they drink beer and meet old compadres arriving from other pueblos. I know a woman who met her husband at a rodeo, they look good enough to marry. So handsome in their tight pants, gold crosses lying on bare chests. It is a time to get together in friendship and put aside old animosities for this magical time of the rodeo, which can go on for days and nights and include live music and dancing and besos, kisses, for every brave charro and the crowning of a queen.
I am going to make this painting the invitation for my annual show February 7 at my studio. I live in the city now and built my studio here yet the people and the pueblos of Cabo Corrientes remain in my life and memory..