About Loida Alvarez
Hello, my name is Loida, or simply “Lo.” Thank you for being here.
I feel humbled right now typing an "about" section. It's been so long that I have wished/dreamed of having a site for just me, my art, my perspective, and expression of life and living. As of this writing, I am 59 years old and I feel like a little kid playing and finding my way into life as an artist.
I look forward to connecting with more people and have fun along the way. But perhaps most of all, to underscore our connection to nature and collective humanity...the love, safety, and connection we seek despite our differences of navigating this wild and wonderful life.
EARLY YEARS
I was born in 1965 and raised in Canarsie, Brooklyn, walking distance to Canarsie Pier on Jamaica Bay. At times it felt like a small town where everyone knew each other and looked after one another. I also witnessed a lot of changes including violence and social unrest from the early 1970s. Issues around bussing, segregation, and racial tensions peaked in 1972 causing my elementary school to close for over a month for safety. The schoolyard down the block from my house had become a daily bloody battleground of race riots.
Drawing, painting, and writing was a way my five year old self processed the sadness, confusion, and fear I felt. In our backyard, was a refuge: half of it was like the Aidrondacks (pine trees and willows my pop proudly transplanted and cared for from upstate NY) and the other half grew bounties of fruits, flowers, and vegetables both my parents lovingly tended. I loved climbing the trees for a bird's eye view. I'd observe when the tomatoes would be ripe for a snack and be extra diligent on catching the figs, grapes, and blackberries when they were at their sweetest and warm from the sun.
A crushing moment across the fence: when I was five or six I watched my neighbor's backyard across the fence become fully covered by cement. I cried as I watched the last dandelion and blade of grass get smothered. I ran into the house bawling. My mom was afraid something had happened to me.
I still wonder what those backyards look like now and if all those seeds are still there...waiting to see the light of day again, and grow.
The ebbs and flows of life is a wonderful mystery and I am so grateful for my experiences and to be where I am now. Turns out, I think Canarsie is quite fitting: "By way of Canarsie" was a mid-twentieth century American English figure of speech meaning "to come to one's destination by a roundabout way or from a distant point" (wikipedia).
WHY WATERCOLOR
I love
WHY ACRYLIC
