Nessy Designs: Day of the Dead: Cempasúchil

Incluso en el silencio de la pérdida,
podemos oír los suaves susurros de nuestros seres queridos,
que siguen con nosotros, sus espíritus danzando en nuestros corazones,
que nunca se han ido, sino que florecen para siempre.

Even in the stillness of loss,
we can hear the soft whispers of our loved ones,
still with us, their spirits dancing in our hearts,
never gone, but forever blooming.
―Source

My latest painting is close-up of a marigold in honor of Day of the Dead. The flower's vibrant color represents the sun and their strong fragrance helps guide the souls of the departed back to visit their loved ones at this time when the veil is thin. They help shift the focus from mourning to celebration as symbols of affection, memory, and enduring connection. "Para los que ya no estan" means "For those who are no longer with us." This painting is dedicated to my Mom.

Inspiration

In late August I went to the big local plant store called Natorp's. When I walked in the front door I was greeted by gorgeous, bright, orange marigolds. I liked them, but saw that they were the "African" marigolds with the big heads. I was under the impression that the "regular" marigold were hardier. I passed them by and went about my business.

On the way out I thought I would go look at them again, when a man who worked there happened to walk by. I asked him if I could plant these big-headed marigolds in the ground and he told me they would do great in the ground and assured me they were quite hardy. I bought three and planted them in the very front of my yard. It is now November 5th and they are still going strong!

Right after Halloween I was walking by them and they were so bright and cheery I took some photos. That night it occurred to me that I could do a Day of the Dead painting of them.

The early morn lets out the peeping day

And strew'd his paths with golden marigolds...

―Phineas Fletcher

Process

I began by blowing my photo up to the size of my paper and made a tracing of the petals. I forgot to take a photo of that, but below are the next steps in the process.

After the last step above I usually spend a fair amount of time darkening the darks and lightening the lights. Below you can see how my desk looked at this stage.

Type and Ornaments

After I fussed with it for way too long, I called it done and scanned the painting. I had worked on creating the type and graphic elements in Illustrator before I started the painting. I then mocked it up in Photoshop with my photo reference. Once I had painted and scanned the painting, I had such fun working on the placement of both the type and ornaments. Below you can see six options.

I had a hard time choosing which one I liked best. I posted my favorite at the top of this blog post and below you can see my second favorite. In my favorite, I liked the way the shape of the flower led up to the words. In my second favorite below, the white graphic ornaments against the dark background reminded me of bones, which seemed appropriate. And I had fun letting one single orange petal hang over the edge of the bottom border. It was hard not to choose this one because I liked that element so much.

Cempasúchil

"Mientras el cempasúchil florezca en la Tierra, nuestro amor vivirá por siempre."

As long as marigolds continue to bloom on Earth, our love will endure.

―Aztec legend

After I bought the marigolds from Natorp's, I looked up "African marigolds." I learned the proper common name is the Mexican or Aztec marigold. This mis-attribution came about because traders brought the plant to Africa where it easily naturalized along the coast. It was then imported to Europe, where it was named by botanists. The flower, however, is native to Mexico and the scientific name is Tagetes erecta.

I also learned the Nahuatl (Aztec) word for this plant is cempashúchil. The word comes from the Nahuatl word cempohualxochitl. It is a compound word made up of two parts:

• Cempohualli (or zempoal): meaning "twenty"

• Xochitl: meaning "flower"

It literally translates to "twenty flower" or "flower of twenty petals. And behind this name lies the following legend:

"The cempasúchil flower was created from an Aztec legend about two childhood sweethearts, Xóchitl and Huitzilin, who swore an eternal vow of love before the Sun God, Tonatiuh.

Their happiness ended when Huitzilin was killed in battle. Devastated, Xóchitl climbed a sacred mountain and begged the Sun God to reunite them. Moved by her grief, Tonatiuh touched her with a golden ray, transforming her into a tightly closed flower bud on the hillside.

Soon after, Huitzilin was reborn as a hummingbird. He flew to the mountain, guided by the bud's sweet scent, and gently landed on it. Recognizing her lover's touch, the flower instantly burst open into twenty radiant, sun-colored petals.

Today, this eternal reunion is why the flower's bright color and strong scent are used during Día de Muertos to guide spirits back home."

When I was first thinking about the layout of this painting, I thought about making it a square with the focus on the Nahuatl word Cempasúchil instead of "Day of the Dead." Although the shape of the painting ended up a rectangle, I realized I could still play with this option. Below are my two finalists.

I thought I would like the option with the petal overhanging the border. But when I put them next to each other I was surprised I liked the more vertical option. Below you can see it larger.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

—Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Ofrenda (Altar)

Traditionally during Day of the Dead ceremonies, it is customary to make an ofrenda, or altar, for loved ones who have passed. It is a way of welcoming their souls for a brief reunion with the living. If you have never made an altar, it is a lovely way to honor family and friends who are dearly missed. It doesn't have to be complicated. Typically, you put items around their photo that remind you of them and light a candle. It could be their favorite food, flowers, or drink. It is also common to include water, sweet bread (pan de muerto), sugar skulls (calaveras de azúcar), tissue paper banners (papel picado), incense, salt, or personal momentos.

I love this tradition of making an altar. In the altar I made my Mom (shown below), I included my three Xoloitzcuintli (Xolo) clay dogs as they are believed to help the dead on their journey and guard their souls. Also, my Mom loved dogs. Plus, she had a large collection of stone owls and I inherited the one in the photo. I also included a candle. The simple act of thinking about my Mom and the things she liked, made me feel near to her...like somehow she was there with me as I lit her candle. I plan on framing my marigold painting and hopefully next year I can place it on the altar.

But the most important element of the altar for me, was flowers. My Mom was an amazing gardener and had quite the green thumb. I was so happy the marigolds I planted in August lasted until November so I could include them. When I went out into the rainy garden to cut a few marigolds for the altar, I particularly felt my Mom's presence. As I cut the flowers and smelled their pungent, earthy aroma on my fingers, I became aware of the scent of fresh cempashúchiles surrounding us both, drawing us close, and connecting us, if only for a brief moment. Gracias a la vida, Gracias a la vida.

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto:

me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto—

así yo distingo dicha de quebranto,

los dos materiales que forman mi canto,

y el canto de ustedes, que es el mismo canto

y el canto de todos, que es mi propio canto.

Gracias a la vida, Gracias a la vida…

Thanks be to life, that has given me so much:

Given me laughter and given me tears

So I can tell joy from sorrow,

Which are the two sources of my singing

And of your song too, which is the same song