(Me, trying on the larger-scale art installation hat. I like this hat.)
(Also, because last fall was eventful enough that I forgot to post my Halloween yard installation when it happened.)
For the last few years I’ve been gathering Halloween and Dia de los Muertos (they are not the same) decor from thrift stores. A carved wood mask, then another. Pierced-felt banners and matching pierced-metal candle lanterns painted bright colors. Wire hanging lanterns. A yellow plastic skull, then a life-size LED wire skeleton. Wood beads in purple, orange, white, yellow, red, and natural tan, that I made into a vast garland. Black metal chains. Silk flowers in autumn colors. Raffia medallions that began life as coasters. So many tiny candles.
The first time I tried anything more than a basket of candy was 2019. October had been a bad month following a worse one. I needed a little levity, while nodding at the grim world.
One carved wood mask with a green glowstick to make the eyes shine green. Some white hospital gowns. A cardboard box and an old striped sheet more often used for frost protection in winter. A string of green LED strip lights in a black wire lantern. A basket of candy.
She was a little too frightening after dark, I think. The local kids ran up to get candy and glowsticks, then ran away again.
In 2022, I did a bit more. No ghoulish figure, just a low table with a sheet. Some lanterns, a bowl of candy and lit glowsticks. A pieced felt Dia de los Muertos banner. The table was flanked by a wrought iron basket on each end, filled with red-orange asters and pink geraniums.
This went over much better! The glowsticks were almost more of a draw than the candy.
I took notes, and gathered supplies on the cheap. In summer of 2023 I lucked out with a massive-but-affordable auction find of fabric ribbons of nearly all colors.
So early in October of 2023, I started decorating one tree in the front yard with wood bead garlands, beaded wire hoops, lanterns, and orange and purple ribbons.
The cardboard box became a folding wood table found at Goodwill, covered with a gloriously gaudy Bolivian acrylic machine-woven cloth.
The table became almost a full ofrenda, missing only the pictures of my lost loved ones. (We celebrated them in private, with dark chocolate, Scotch, and fond memories.)
I am not Latina. But I am a New Mexican born and reared, and the festival of Dia de los Muertos and All-Saints Day is woven into my early experiences, every bit as much as Halloween: painted retablos and silver milagros charms, tamales steaming on a cold night, hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon and chili. Lights, flowers, laughter, dancing…
*Two* baskets of candy, one with peanuts, one without, clearly marked for allergies. One bowl just for glowsticks! More flowers, marigolds this time. More lanterns. More silk flowers. More glowsticks! A lifesized LED wire skeleton lurking in the background.
During the day it was cheerful and colorful.
On Halloween Night and the night after, it became luminous and enchanting.
‘Mama!’ I heard a little girl call out, far down the street on Halloween. ‘The glowstick lady is here!’
That’s me, the glowstick lady.
Children and adults wandered closer, taking candy and glowsticks to light their night. Faces gazed, quieted with wonder, at the lights and ribbons flickering in the breeze. People took selfies in front of the ofrenda and its backdrop.
When I can get *that reaction*, I know I’ve made effective art.
Halloween was a jumble of light, color, and activity. Like many of my neighbors, I left my display up the next night: for just the night, and any spirits that might be traveling through. Scented candles, a little wine in a stoneware goblet, a little pan dulce on a colorful plate. I’m sure the animals had fun.
The LED lanterns easily burned the two nights and two days. On the third day, I packed everything away.
Knowing I’ll have to out-do it this upcoming October, I have some *really* amazing lanterns I am bringing out this year. Some may then go with me to France, as part of an installation there.