The Pot Boy

36″ x 24″
Oil on canvas

After I moved into my house in Hermosillo, I kept a camera on my entry hall table. The pot-boy came by and said his modeling fee was that I must buy one of his small round pots (which were overpriced) and a cervesa. The Pot Boy was of some indigenous extraction probable Yague Indian a Sonora desert people.

In the background is the little side garden by our house in Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico. I still have the pot that I bought that day, only it’s in piece. These indigenous pots are fired at such low temperatures and from such inferior clay they shatter with the slightest tap. My Mother and Father came to visit us in Hermosillo. Hermosillo was not a tourist town. Mother and I went downtown in the old part of the city. My Mother purchased several beautiful Guaybera shirts (wedding shirts) for my Dad. That night we went to a Mexican Restaurant that specialized in serving strips of Fried Cow Udder. The Fried Cow Udder had the texture and taste of rubber bands. I am sure if you added enough salsa it would have been palatable. In the 1980s men did not take their wives or girlfriends out for dinner. My Mother and I were the only women in the restaurant. My Daddy proudly wore one of his new Guaybera shirts of the most beautiful rose red. In the restaurant we noticed that all the waiters wore the exact same rose red Guaybera shirts. Daddy got up and went to the restroom. We started asking where is Daddy after he did not return for well over 25 minutes. Charlie went to look for him. Charlie had to rescue my Dad from a table of tipsy men loudly demanding their waiter (my father) to bring them their Cervezas pronto. My Dad thought this was all great fun.