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The Flower Queen: A Mother's Art Interpets Her Son's Poetry

A self-published book by Oscar S. Cisneros with paintings by his mother Leticia Rendon. The preface and a few of the book's paintings are available below.

If you are interested, check back soon, or email me, for details on how to get a copy.
 
 

Cover

 
 
Cover
 
 
 

Paintings By
Leticia Rendon

When I Dream

When I Dream


Where Marionettes Mock Their Manipulators

Where Marionettes Mock Their Manipulators


Misumena Vatia -- The Flower Queen

Misumena Vatia: The Flower Queen


A Spider and a Butterfly

A Spider and a Butterfly


How Long is a Moment

How Long is a Moment


 

 
 

Preface

It has been almost three decades since I was born to a sixteen-year-old single mother. I remember clearly the day that I told mom that I wanted to be an artist. "You'll starve," she said. It's too bad, I suppose, that children sometimes listen to their dreams more than they listen to their mothers.

I hope you enjoy the collection of poems and writings presented in this book, all of which were written during my three years of study at UC Berkeley's Boalt Hall School of Law. What is it about law school that makes one want to scurry into a computer lab and hack away one's musings about love and life? Maybe it's all the passionate people or that the law can sometimes be so unforgiving. Whatever the cause may be, writing has been the safety valve of my sanity and provided a much-needed escape to the emotions suppressed by footnotes and a sometimes suffocating set of social conventions.

In this book, you'll find my mother's paintings next to the writings they interpret. The book was supposed to be a surprise graduation gift, but since I'm "Mr. Copyright," according to mom, she asked for my permission instead -- so much for fair use. Collaboration with her has been a soothing backdrop to my last semester at Boalt.

For many years my mother and I struggled in Brownsville, Texas, a town declared poorest city in the nation year after year. My grandfather, Don Luis, taught me that learning is an honor and not a chore. Seeing my mother fight to raise me on her own taught me tenacity. Her art, meanwhile, taught me an appreciation for beauty. The passion you'll find in the pages that follow grew from these roots. Thank you for a moment of your attention. (Written April 2001)

 

 


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