A strange obsession?

Eight-year-old Carly, my granddaughter, stood somewhat in awe, somewhat in puzzlement in front of the floor-to-ceiling display cabinet at the end of the room.

“You sure do like skeletons, Neeny,” she observed.

I do.

I do collect skeletons or skulls.

I no longer collect jewelry of any kind—I have a guy in my life that likes to do that for me.

But recently, I could not resist a tiny skull crafted from coral, the color of ripe peaches. Tisi, the very talented jeweler aat Lost Cities Beads in Old Town, fastened it to a shiny chain I had, along with a two small beads, one gold and one jade green.

It has become a kind of comfort object for me when I wear it, much like Carly’s scraggly, stuffed yellow Tweety Bird she used to drag around in her childhood.

My fascination—some would call it obsession—with skeletons began with my immersion into art twenty-five years ago when I first began training at The San Diego Museum of Art.

In my studies and research, I began to learn about José Pasado’s Calaveras or skeleton caricatures, memento moris, an object—most often a skull—in an artwork designed to remind the viewer of their mortality and of the shortness and fragility of human life, and the Day of the Dead of traditions of artfully crafted altars honoring ancestors. It has become on of my favorite holidays.

We traveled to Mexico City, San Miguel and Oaxaca often with me collecting Catrinas, one of Jose Posada’s most iconic Calaveras—a female figure wearing a fancy hat with feathers and flowers much like the European fashions favored by the Mexican elite.

My favorites were figures done by Josefina Aguilar and her sisters.

I began visiting Josefina in her rural studio in Oaxaca fifty years ago when we were both young mothers. She died just last year.

Josefina died, but not before teaching her traditions to her children. This one, "Time Flies," by her son Demetrio.

My obsession hit new heights last year when I added a new long boned ghost-white figure to my bedroom. Crafted from papier mache by artists in San Miguel, he sits at the end of the bed as a non-spooky boudoir companion!

My daughter, Jamie, and Carly brought this one to me from an artist in Nashville when Carly was a student at Belmont University there.

This metal sculpture with a bright red rose on top lights up my kitchen day and night.

It seems Carly was right.

I really do like skeletons and take to heart the memento mori message about life’s fleeting moments. A memento mori is basically a reminder that you, I, we are mortal and will eventually die one way or another. It's an object (or a literary device) kept in view specifically to symbolically drive that point home, like an image of a skull or skeleton

In other words, take time to smell the roses, y’all!