La Lupe... a su manera

Every once in a while I come back to this blog with a reminder of La Lupe, that incredible singer who doesn't compare. She's part of the reason I started writing this blog - to remind myself of the powerful women around me, to remember that, like her, I can take in all the world around me and then throw it back out - as an artist, as a woman, as a crazy healer.

Who can forget her song "Que te pedi", a song every incredible breakup should have in its soundtrack:

hoy pides tu las estrellas y el sol
no soy un dios
asi como soy
yo te ofresco mi amor, no tengo mas
[you ask for the stars and the sun - i'm not a god - but as I am I offer my love - I don't have more]

pero que te pedi,
tu lo puedes al mundo decir,
que supieras que no hay en la vida otro amor
como mi amor.
[but what did I ask of you - you can tell the world that there is no love like my love]

Or her "La Tirana", which deconstructed men's views of women:

Segun tu punto de vista

yo soy la mala

vampiresa en tu novela

la gran tirana

[according to your point of view, I'm the wicked/bad one - the vampire in your novel, the great tyrant]

That song has defined my work in destroying expectations of femininity or, better yet, removing masculinist silencing.

PBS' Independent Lens series featured La Lupe recently in a documentary. I missed the only showing because I was in class. And when it was due to air again, my local PBS decided to do a fundraiser instead. I shouted to the tv "I'll give 10 bucks if you put La Lupe on right now!" but they didn't listen to me.

Everyone should check out the website about the show, though. I'm not kidding. La Lupe expresses the pent up rage and passion that so many women carry (or wish they carried) but have trouble releasing. I love La Lupe and, wherever she is right now, she knows it. Bella!

all things donkey lady

Ahh, it's good to be back in Say-town when the Fall hits. That's right, it's Donkey Lady time!

I love the stories and yes I've written about it before - y que? Wasn't one of my original intents with this blog to take a good look at all things women and all things queer. What's more odd than a woman who was made folklore and icon. Shoot, she wouldn't be the first. There's Pocahontas, Frida Kahlo, La Virgen de Guadalupe, La Lupe (besotes mama!) - countless others.

Most likely because it's Halloween season, the local paper did a story about the Donkey Lady. They even offer a Talk Back webpage where you can relive your childhood fear and, hopefully, be comforted by strangers. I myself called a phone number when I was in elementary school that, at the time, had a horrible donkey sound. Man, I could use that number now. I'm not saying it's right to scare kids but it's not so wrong either, you know?

honoring

I can say it and the world doesn't blow up into a billion pieces:

I sometimes think of returning to old relationships, or falling into inappropriate ones or allowing relationships that are less than beneficial. BUT that doesn't mean I'll do any of this. My mind wanders, I've always had this ability. It's what's allowed me to write poetry so well. I can connect a piece of bread to the other side of the world to a broken arm to a song from the 1950s.

Fellow writer and friend Maggie would say it was a language translation issue if she heard me say: When I talk about the women in my life, in my past, I use the present tense, even future tense. They continue to influence me and I can't help but honor the choices we made when we were together, the way we split and, above all else, the way we joined. Those are some of the most beautiful moments of all.

Tonight is the night Cliffy returned to me in another form. Still not seeing anyone, still not ready to see me and still needing to work on her stuff but our connection is intact. That makes me profoundly happy.

When I began this blog I sent the announcement to a few people but never thought they'd look at it except for the first few days. Now I realize why blog activists have been so successful. People can't help but read them. I fight the urge now to send a blanket statement apologizing for anything I might have said, might still say. Rather, everyone should be sure to know that I write only a small portion of what may occur in my life. They should also know (no surprise) that I am a little dramatic.

I say all this because now my friends are quoting me from the blog and Cliffy told me she read it and was glad she couldn't always access it. I cannot apologize but I will say she is an incredible woman who reads me like few have - she reads me as the person I'm working to become.

I remember when Cliffy and I met. I hadn't ever met her before but knew instantly who she was. I walked up to her and felt as though I already knew her - some organic reaction/some spirit recognition. Papito/Cliffy, te mando un dedicacion : "Me Siento Guajiro" by La Lupe : el ritmo me cae bien. In honor of the land we hold in ourselves, the home we build within ourselves. It's about time I started building, que no? No more wandering. No more exile syndrome for me.

As La Lupe chimes to close her song:
pa ta pa pa
tras tras

Guadalupe Victoria Yoli Raymond vive!

I chose the title and some sayings for this blog in honor of my favorite salsa singer of the 1960s and 1970s : La Lupe.

Lycos has a pretty good bio of her at http://music.lycos.com/artist/bio.asp?QT=A&QW=La+Lupe&AN=La+Lupe&MID=38284&MH=

Known for her santeria work, her phoenix way of rising from the ashes and and her exhilarating performances, La Lupe remains an icon for women who don't behave. I don't know many others who could compete with her in their need to take off clothing while singing (maybe Alejandra Guzman!).

Take this incredible quote from La Lupe's song, "La Tirana":

Según tu punto de vista, yo soy la mala.
Vampiresa en tu novela, la gran Tirana...
Según tu punto de vista, yo soy la mala,
la que te llegó hasta el alma, la gran tirana . . .
According to your point of view, I am the bad one.
Vamp of your soap opera, the grand tyrant . . .
I am the bad one. The one who reached your soul, the grand tyrant . . .

La Lupe, known for usurping male privilege and defying ideas of femininity and masculine control, still speaks strongly, making her a fitting drag performance favorite even now, despite her death in 1992.

One must play the bad mujer, unfortunately. So often I enjoy being an outsider here in Austin. It allows me to really evaluate how history and individuals connect, especially in East Austin politics and culture. I'm only now making inroads into the communities I admire and want to work with and for. But this outsider space also makes me la tirana. After all, who knows me? How often have I torn my heart out of my body to show my worth?

Maybe I should date women who don't do so damned much in town.

Wow, I think I need some coffee. I'm becoming surreal.