Viva los Libros

"El universo (que otros llaman la Biblioteca).../The universe (which others call the Library)..." - Jorge Luis Borges in "La Biblioteca de Babel"/"The Library of Babel"

This exhibit encourages viewers/readers to think about the archive as a means of preservation. Who do these books serve? Who are they intended to serve? What other knowledge might be enclosed in our archives? The books here have been selected from  UC Santa Cruz Special Collections and Archives , and curated to highlight the kinds of Latinx artist books available in the collection. Please note that anyone, UCSC affiliate or otherwise, can request materials from  Special Collections . This collection boasts over 1,000 artist books and more than 50 with Spanish language text. There are only five books showcased here, and have been chosen by me somewhat arbitrarily, as these are the topics in which I am the most comfortable. Nevertheless, I hope they demonstrate the scope of Latin American writing and artistry in this unique format, from creators both in Latin America and in diaspora.

This exhibit is organized into sections by book, and there are five books total. You can navigate between books by scrolling through the exhibit or by clicking through at the tab at the top. Each image of a book has an attribution with the Special Collections call number. You can find the attribution by clicking the “i” inscribed inside a circle on the left corner of each image.

I am a PhD student at UCSC in Visual Studies, and I have produced this exhibit on a fellowship with the  Elisabeth Remak-Honnef Center for Archival Research and Training (CART) . I primarily study the visual culture of textiles in the Andes. I also research the art of empire, Indigenous colonization, Spanish Colonial visual culture, survival of Indigenous traditions, and Catholic traditions in the Americas. As a white researcher working on Indigneous cultures of the Americas, I have found it important to state my positionality, and want to emphasize that while I have devoted my career to studying the cultures in this exhibition, I am not a member of any Indigenous group. I hope here to bring to light ways of thinking about the world outside of Western paradigm, inspire an appreciation for recording knowledge outside of written language, and showcase the exquisite artistry that has come from Latin America and Latin American artists working outside their native countries. 

"Lines consist of an infinite number of points; planes an infinite number of lines; volumes an infinite number of planes, hypervolumes an infinite number of volumes..." - Jorge Luis Borges in "The Book of Sand"

"El Libro de Arena" (or "The Book of Sand" in translation) is a short story by Jorge Luis Borges published in 1975. Borges was born in Argentina in 1899 and therefore, watched his home country struggle through several tumultuous political shifts. In the 1930s, Borges witnessed the rise of a nationalist movement and was open about his anti-fascist ideology. He was also hostile to the Peronist government, the single-party government that dominated Argentina from 1946-1955. Finally, he saw the rise and fall of the military junta from 1976-1983, a US-backed right wing government that became known for its harsh brutality. Following the collapse of the military government, the new regime under President Raúl Alfonsín organized a truth commission to look into human rights abuses. This investigation culminated in the release of the Nunca Más Report, which was locally and internationally hailed as a success, and democracy has been stable in Argentina ever since. The events of the 70s and 80s greatly influenced Borges, who wrote of his support for democratic rule in 1983, after having advocated against it in his earlier career (See: Borges, 1983).

"El Libro de Arena" tells the story of a man who encounters a strange Bible vendor selling a book of infinite pages. No matter how many times the man opens the book, a new page with a random number appears. If he tries to open to the first or last pages, new pages suddenly fill the covers as if by magic. Pages can contain text and images. Shortly after purchasing the book, the man becomes obsessed with the knowledge it contains. He tries to document it and becomes so consumed with the work that soon he does nothing besides search through the book. Eventually he decides to rid himself of the book, and remembers "having read that the best place to hide a leaf is in a forest" and so he hides the book in the National Library of Argentina. This story incorporates many consistent themes in Borges' works, such as infinity, labyrinths, and the oppression of unending knowledge. He published a similar story in 1941 called "La biblioteca de Babel" ("The Library of Babel") which conceives of a library where an infinite series of 410-page books contains every iteration of letters. In the Nawakum Press publication El Libro de Arena/The Book of Sand, the story is illustrated with etchings by Thomas Wood on the front cover and throughout the text. Explore some of these images below.

"I felt the book to be a nightmarish object, something obscene that slanders and compromises reality." - Jorge Luis Borges in "The Book of Sand"

As you move through the rest of the exhibit, continue to think about the questions Borges poses to us. How do we keep knowledge? How can we make knowledge accessible and not overwhelming? I would argue the message of "El Libro de Arena" is that there is beauty in finding knowledge in unexpected places, in not having it simply handed to us. Life is a constant search for what will come next, what we will know next, and so it is important to search through archives, libraries, and museums. The quest is what is important. Many of the books in this exhibit ask us to think about what knowledge is and how it is encoded, and how to search for new ways of understanding.

"The day we left Cuba the sea was quiet. I was a child. I thought we were on holiday. I didn't cry. I didn't grieve. No one explained anything. I became this woman immune to your love." - Ruth Behar in Everything I Kept/Todo lo que Guardé

“The suitcase was exactly right not only because I came and went to Cuba all the time but because I was a traveler in life, carrying stories and memories, a heavy traveler, holding on to too many things that I should have given away.” - Ruth Behar in "For the Love of Beautiful Books"

Everything I Kept/Todo lo que Guardé is truly a collaboration between author and artist. Ruth Behar has worked extensively with the artists at Ediciones Vigía since she met the artistic director, Rolando Estévez Jordán, in 1994. Ediciones Vigía started as a collaborative project between Estévez and poet and writer, Alfredo Zaldívar Muñoa, in 1985. During the Communist era of Cuban history, they sought to create beautiful books when books were printed only in generic forms by state presses. Although Zaldívar left the bookshop in 1998 and Estévez in 2014 to start his own independent artist book studio, El Fortín, Ediciones Vigía is still producing books in Matanzas, Cuba (Behar, 2021). Everything I Kept/Todo lo que Guardé is almost an exchange of two gifts: Behar's poems to Estévez, and Estévez's covers and illustrations to Behar. In her essay "For the Love of Beautiful Books," Behar explains that Estévez did not discuss how he intended to print the poems with her. Instead she received one of the 200 copies (Ediciones Vigía only produces 200 copies of any book) and found that he "had chosen the perfect symbol" to represent her: a suitcase, which opens and closes. Inside, there is a picture of Cuban poet, Dolce María Loynaz, whose work inspired the title of this book, and Behar herself. The suitcase also holds a Jewish star, seashells, dried flowers, and an almond shell, which are objects referenced in the poems (Behar, 2021).

Behar's writing is often of dispossession, but ultimately this lack of belonging leads to her claiming multiple homes. Ruth Behar is Jewish, and her grandparents had come to Cuba from Russia and Poland (on her mother's side) and from Turkey (on her father's side). The family was then forced to flee Cuba in the early 1960s. She grew up a child of mixed traditions: she talks of Spanish being the language that brought her family together, as her mother's family spoke Yiddish and her father's Ladino (Neile & Behar, 2009). Of course, most Latin American countries, including Cuba, are populated mostly by Catholics. To be a Cuban Jewish woman in diaspora is a great deal of dislocation. In reading Behar's ethnographic work, it is clear she has found a sense of place through the generosity of those she works with; traveling; and working with various communities in the U.S., Cuba, and elsewhere. She describes ethnography as "finding stories we don't know we have lost," and her contribution to those who have helped her with her work is to bring to the fore the stories she has recovered (Behar, 2003). For those who wish to read the complete collection of Everything I Kept/Todo lo que Guardé, Behar published a standard version of the book with Swan Isle Press in 2018, with minor changes in writing.

“Ediciones Vigía books will have an afterlife on computer screens and iPads, even though they were initially conceived as being in opposition to the virtual world, as being sensual, palpable, and tactile, made of paper, and above all, human – at once exquisitely frail and yet designed to be handheld.” - Ruth Behar in "For the Love of Beautiful Books"

It is odd to be making a digital exhibit of one of the most tactile books I have ever had the pleasure to hold. When I was a little girl my mom would take my sister and me to the library on hot summer afternoons, and let us loose for an hour or so to pursue the books. I was always drawn to the ones with faded covers and stained pages, ones that had a worn and loved look about them. When you open books like that, they have a distinctive crackle, a crack that lets all the love captured inside out into the air. Everything I Kept/Todo lo que Guardé had that exact same feeling. It holds a distinctive crackle, but here the pages crinkle and pop from the butcher paper that make the covers and the glued-on figures and objects. The book invites you to experience it fully: to see it, to read it, to listen to it, to smell it, to touch it, and to engage with it. I strongly encourage viewers/readers to experience this book for themselves in the Special Collections reading room, and search for other Ediciones Vigía books in the collection (of which there are many). The University of Michigan, where Ruth Behar works as a Professor of Anthropology has one of the largest (if not the largest) collections of Ediciones Vigía books in the United States, and the university  library has recently curated an exhibit  on them entitled "Intersections: Cultures, Identities, Narratives." Please scroll through the slides below to see some details of Everything I Kept/Todo lo que Guardé.

"In the poetics of Everything I Kept, loss leads to what can never be lost." - World Literature Today review by Susan Nash Smith

Behar's writing, both here and elsewhere, tells us to reconsider loss: what do we gain from having lost something? Many of the artist books here tell stories of loss - loss of language, of life, of agency, of power. However, the creation of these books proclaims survival and the ability to speak and write in new ways. The following books discuss Indigenous peoples of the Americas, their survival, and their creation of new ways of life in the face of on-going imperialism.

"And I now call it Nepantla, which is a Nahuatl word for the space between two bodies of water, the space between two worlds." - Gloria Anzaldúa in an interview with Karen Ikas

The Codex Espangliensis is Chicano codex: a book published by Chicano activists in the style of Central Mexican codices. It was published by Moving Parts Press and is a collaborative artists’ book made up of performance texts and poems by Guillermo Gómez-Peña interwoven with collage imagery by Enrique Chagoya curated and bound into book form by Felicia Rice of Moving Parts Press. The Chicano Movement, El Movimiento, began in the 1940s but came on the stage with force in the 1960s, and sought to promote the rights of Mexican-Americans in the United States. There is not enough space here to discuss the immense actions organized by Chicano leaders but to highlight a few: the Delano Grape Strike organized by César Chávez and Dolores Huerta, the East L.A. blowouts, the Chicano Moratorium, and the founding of Chicano Park in San Diego. Chicano art includes posters, performance art, murals, and showcased here, codices, which are a type of accordion folded book common among Pre-Hispanic Central Mexican cultures and the Maya. Many Chicano codices deal with themes of Indigenous survival, Mexican pride, and nepantla, which is defined as "the space in between."

Codex Espangliesis is modeled after Central Mexican codices, primarily those of the Mixtec and Mexica (Aztec). The Codex opens and reads right to left, like a traditional Indigenous codex, and is printed on amatl paper like those of the past (González, 2015). It can be physically read in many ways: one could pull out the full 21 foot accordion folded paper or turn pages as individual flaps. The pages are also not numbered, so the story encompassed can be read in a disjointed format if the viewer so wishes, which mirrors the Indigenous Mesoamerican sense of time. Among many Central Mexican cultures and the Maya, time is believed to move in cycles, with events repeated in a similar, but not identical way. Often times Westerners get lost in Indigenous American storytelling, because of its rejection of a linear format. The book tells the story of an Aztec explorer, Noctli Europzin who in 1492 "discovers" a continent and names it after himself, Europe. The word “Espangliensis” is intentionally unintelligible. The “es” comes from “Espana” the Spanish name for Spain, the “sis” ending denotes sickness in Latin, and the word “anglo” is hidden in the center (Baca, 2009). Most of the text, written in Spanish, English, and Spanglish, is a dark satire of colonization and contemporary Western pop culture saturation.

The artist/authors of Codex Espangliesis also included several glyphs, and the entire process, in which images and texts are combined and overrun each other, is a continuance and amendment of an Indigenous Mesoamerican practice. In the image above, for example, the feathered serpent, Quetzalcoatl (who is credited with the invention of writing) is posed back-to-back with Ehecatl, the wind deity who bestows breath upon living beings (Baca, 2009). Surrounding them are the day names of the first day of each of the 20 months in the Mexica (Aztec) calendar. Thus we may add Nahuatl (the lingua franca of the Mexica empire) to our list of languages included in the codex. Writing for many of the peoples of Central Mexico is "semasiographic" meaning that the writing "is composed predominantly of figural images that bear some likeness to, or visual association with the ideas, things, or actions they represent" (Boone, 2000). Therefore, there were many ways of conveying the same idea in Indigenous codices, but they were still capable of being nearly universally read (by "literate" individuals). The Mixtec and Mexica (Aztec) make no distinction between imagery and writing. In fact, the Nahuatl word tlaquilolitzli means both "to write" and "to paint" (Baca, 2009). Codex Espangliesis asks us, then, to question why we privilege alphabetic text over image-writing as a means of communication, and the book prioritizes Indigenous ways of knowledge recordation.

The use of Indigenous format in Chicano/a codices is especially important given that the Spanish specifically sought to destroy Indigenous libraries during the Conquest. Many books were held in the Mexica (Aztec) capital of Tenotitlan, which was destroyed and converted into the Colonial metropolis, Mexico City. Books, sometimes even over statues and murals of Indigenous deities, were considered idolatrous and singled out. In addition to Central Mexican books, Mayan books were also destroyed. Diego de Landa burned books throughout the Yucatán, and only four Mayan codices survive today (Miller & O'Neil, 2014). Pictographic writing continued in the Colonial period, however, despite this destruction.

"The Codex Espangliensis presents an inclusive world capable of combining disparate elements, producing a broad vision that brings the reader closer to the cultural reality of the artists. The Chicana/o worldview exists in an intermediate space between various cultures and traditions." - Kat Austin and Carlos-Urani Montiel, trans. Victoria J. Furio in Codex Espangliensis: Neo-Baroque Art of Resistance

"'Where did the Maya people go?' is a question that is surprisingly often asked of us...the answer to this question is a simple one: Maya people are in many places, both in their ancestral homelands and elsewhere, continuing to keep alive the traditions of their ancestors and forging new paths in today's global society." - Mary Ellen Miller and Megan E. O'Neil in Maya Art and Architecture

This book, a collection of spells, poems, and prayers from the Tzotzil Maya of Chiapas, Mexico, comes to us from Taller Leñateros (in English: The Woodlanders' Workshop). This workshop has "publicado los primeros libros escritos, ilustrados, impresos y encuadernados (con papel de su propia manufactura) por el pueblo maya en más de 400 años" or "published the first books written, illustrated, printed, and bound (with paper of their own making) in the Maya village in more than 400 years" (Past). Notice here, the brown bark pieces standing out against the black dye, a testament to the hand-pressed nature of this paper. This book is a remarkable example of Mayan writing, reclamation of power and agency, and the gift of labor and knowledge.

The Maya author/artists dreamt the incantations they delivered to this book. The contemporary Maya receive many visions in their dreams and often have "visitation dreams" where deities bestow special knowledge upon the sleeper's soul. The Tzotzil have two souls, the ch'ulel, a personal soul, and the wayhel, an animal companion. At night, the ch'ulel travels to "yan banal, yan vinajel" or "the other earth, the other sky" (Groark, 2009). The incantations on these pages are translations of the soul into Tzotzil Mayan, and then translated again into English for a United States audience. After the Conquest, Maya peoples were ridiculed and blocked from public service because they often spoke only Mayan, and not Spanish. Reading and writing became "mystified" skills, with magical powers (Chojnacki, 2016). These texts are a new expression of power; the words are written in transcribed Latin letters, not Mayan glyphs. The choice to translate these Mayan words into English, is a real gift, especially given the suffering of the Maya people at European hands. We should appreciate this work by fully engaging with their offering and appreciating it as a work of cultural resistance.

Chiapas, the Mexican state where Taller Leñateros is located, is home to a large concentration of Classic Maya sites. When Euro-Americans are asked to conjure the Maya in their minds, it is the Classic Maya they often think of, the Maya of the years 250-900 CE. While Classic Maya cities did collapse around the year 900 (likely due to drought and increasing militarism), the Maya people continued to live near their ancestral homes, albeit in smaller groups. The Tzotzil Maya of Chiapas maintain many ancestral beliefs in a new form. For example, the Classic Maya practiced a form of bloodletting in which a high-ranking individual, often a woman, would pierce her tongue with a rope. This rope had bits of paper attached, and as she would drag the rope through her tongue, the paper would become stained with her blood. She would then burn this paper as an offering to the divine in the hope that a deity would appear to her, as in the example on the right. The tongue, can be thought of as a metaphor for speech and communication, as are books. The incantations and images in this book can be thought of as a similar offering: of speech, of labor, of life force. The ink on the pages can conjure the supernatural and request help, and we can think of these words and pictures as a continuation of this blood-letting practice.

"Even though few of the authors of this anthology can read, even though the Tzotzil Maya have no libraries nor bookstores near their houses, a wise person is said to have ‘books in the heart,’ according to Robert M. Laughlin’s translation of a sixteenth-century Spanish-Tzotzil dictionary." - Ámbar Past in Incantations by Mayan Women

Note here the juxtaposition of text and image and the stylistic choices. Why do you think the writer/artists have chosen such stylized forms? What do you think of the symbols and their placement? In our culture, text and image are seen as two distinct forms of knowledge production, with text being the primary communicator. The West grants text a special place as the "best" way to convey complex ideas and record them for posterity. However, among the Maya, and many Indigenous cultures of Mesoamerica, text and image are mixed, enmeshed, and used in similar ways. Mayan glyphic writing employed images to convey spoken words, as did and do the cultures of Central Mexico such as the Mixtec and Mexica (Aztec). Images also become powerful tools for these women who are "illiterate" in a traditional sense, as a means to communicate the themes of their incantations. People expect writing to be universal, as in it can have the exact same meaning across large swaths of people, and the simple, symbolic imagery here allows for a similar, but not identical practice.

"We are happy, sacred paper, sacred book, sacred words, sacred paintings. You've come out in another language called English, the tongue of the white folks who have blond hair. Don't scold us, book, be of one heart, sing and dance, because you are going to travel far away to another land." - Ámbar Past, on the final pages of Incantations by Mayan Women

"When she is ready to begin weaving, she takes out more coca, blowing on the leaves with an invocation to female saints: awanayaq/for my weaving, Mama Consibida, Mama Rosario, Mama Sinakara, Makiykiwan awasaq/May I weave with your hands." - Catherine J. Allen in The Hold Life Has

There is probably no artistic medium in the Andes that has been discussed as much as textiles. Prior to the Spanish Conquest, there was no written language in the Andes, instead, people kept memories and recorded data through oral traditions and artistic practice, primarily textiles. There are several ways textiles can keep information. For example, two Indigenous empires of the Andes, the Wari (500-1000 CE) and the Inka (1400-1531 CE), used a system of knotted strings, called khipu, for accounting and record keeping. The images on textiles, a highly portable medium, could also communicate ideas. Some scholars think early groups, like the Chavín (900 BCE-200 BCE) used textiles to spread their religious ideology throughout the Andes mountain range (Cordy-Collins, 1982). Many researchers, including myself, study textiles in the Andes to understand the diverse ways people communicate with each other outside of using the written word. El Alfabeto Animado/The Lively Alphabet/Uywakunawan Qelqasqa is an example of the ongoing importance of textiles in the Andes. Here, textiles serve as the perfect medium for a new kind of alphabet.

El Alfabeto Animado/The Lively Alphabet/Uywakunawan Qelqasqa constructs a children’s alphabet book in three languages using that all-important communicator in the Andes: textiles. Most words are translated in three languages: English, Spanish, and Quechua (an Indigenous language of the Andes). The pages just have letters, no actual words. Drawings illustrate two verbs in lieu of text. Each page has two letters, each corresponding to the first letter of a verb in Spanish (for example: A=acostar/to put to bed/puñuchiy). See the image on the right for a full list of verbs included in the book; this list is printed on the inside front cover. Much like Andean weavers often do, Felicia Rice, founder of Moving Parts Press, dreamt a vision of the book she wanted to create. She then contacted children’s book author Katie Jennings to discuss the design of the book, who suggested they consult with Monica Brown, a Peruvian-American author who wrote the text for this book. The three women then met Jenny Callañaupa Huarhua who works at the  Centro de Textiles Tradicionales del Cusco (CTTC) , an organization that works with Indigenous weavers in the Cusco area to help them support their craft. Jenny Callañaupa Huarhua translated the writing into Quechua. Lively finger puppets populate Rice’s drawings, and all are printed on bayeta cloth purchased from markets in Cusco (Rice, 2020). The result is a colorful, trilingual, playful book that records a language without writing in the most beloved medium of the region. 

"Sometimes the weaver has a dream that inspires a design or combination of designs...Always, a design issues from the weaver's heart and soul, and the resulting fabric is a reflection of his or her emotional state." - Nilda Callañaupa Alvarez in Weaving in the Peruvian Highlands: Dreaming Patterns, Weaving Memories

Weaving in the Andes is traditionally a feminine enterprise. While there were likely always men who wove and weaving is so laborious that it often involves all household members, women are typically thought of as the primary weavers. Ethnographer Catherine J. Allen has reported from her work in the town of Sonqo, Peru, that skilled craftspeople are called santuyuq, which means to “possess the saint.” When working, santuyuq can pass some of their animating essense, sami, into the work they are creating (Allen, 2003). When we look at textiles from the Andes, we should think about the intense amount of labor that this work holds, and how the weaver deposited pieces of their soul or energy into the piece. In the Andes, to work is to give a piece of yourself. 

"hina yuyarisung/that's the way we will remember, Quechwa parlaynintax/we have to speak Quechua." - Efrain Escobar in Poem on the Need to Speak Quechua, transcription by Dmetri Hayes

As unfortunately happens with many Indigenous languages of the Americas, people often think Quechua, or Runasimi (as it is called by those who speak it), is a dead language. In fact, at least 8 million people speak Quechua as a first language, and about half of those people live in Peru. Quechua speakers also live in Argentina, Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, and Chile. Most Quechua speakers live in the Andes mountains, and while many speak Spanish as a second language, there are still pockets of people that speak solely Quechua. This language has deep roots in the Andes. The Spanish recorded that the Inka spoke Quechua and it was their official language, but some believe the Wari of 500 CE also spoke Quechua and spread it throughout the Andes (Isbell, 2010). Fortunately, there are several places one can find Quechua in the United States.  The California Language Archive (CLA)  hosts dozens of entries that explain grammar as well as record the thoughts of native speakers as in the example below. 

I hope this exhibit has served as a jumping off point for further research about artist books, Latin American artworks, and Indigenous writing systems. This is not meant to be a comprehensive study, but rather an introduction to the kinds of Latin American artist books available in UCSC Special Collections. The things I discuss here are what I feel is most pertinent based on my experience as a researcher, but there are many other avenues these books could lead you down!

Allen, C. J. (2003). The Hold Life Has: Coca and Cultural Identity in an Andean Community. Smithsonian Institution. 

Austin, K., Montiel, C., & Furio, V. (2012). Codex Espangliensis: Neo-Baroque Art of Resistance. Latin American Perspectives, 39(3), 88-105. Retrieved August 29, 2021, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/23238984

Baca, D. (2009). The Chicano Codex: Writing against Historical and Pedagogical Colonization. College English, 71(6), 564-583. 

Behar, R. (2003). Ethnography and the book that was lost. Ethnography, 4(1), 15-39. 

Behar, R. (2021). For the Love of Beautiful Books: An Ode to the Work of Rolando Estévez for Ediciones Vigía. In J. Cordones-Cook, K. Schwain, & R. Behar (Eds.), Handmade in Cuba: Rolando Estévez and the beautiful books Of Ediciones vigía (pp. 15–33). essay, University Press of Florida. 

Behar, R. (2021). Introduction. In J. Cordones-Cook, K. Schwain, & R. Behar (Eds.), Handmade in Cuba: Rolando Estévez and the beautiful books Of Ediciones vigía (pp. 1–14). essay, University Press of Florida. 

Boone, E. H. (2000). Stories in Red and Black: Pictorial Histories of the Aztecs and Mixtecs. University of Texas Press. 

Borges, J. L. (1983, December 22). La Vuelta de La Democracia: El texto que Jorge Luis Borges escribió para clarín en 1983. Últimas Noticias de Argentina y el Mundo. https://www.clarin.com/sociedad/vuelta-democracia-texto-jorge-luis-borges-escribio-clarin-1983_0_cvt720K4S.html. 

Callañaupa Alvarez, N. (2007). Weaving in the Peruvian Highlands: Dreaming Patterns, Weaving Memories. Centro de Textiles Tradicionales del Cusco. 

Chojnacki, R. (2016). Religion, Autonomy, and the Priority of Place in Mexico's Maya Highlands. Latin American Perspectives, 43(3), 31-50.

CONADEP. (1984). Nunca Más Report (CONADEP Report). Report of CONADEP (National Commission on the disappearance of persons). http://www.desaparecidos.org/nuncamas/web/english/library/nevagain/nevagain_001.htm. 

Cordy-Collins, A. (1982). Psychoactive Painted Peruvian Plants: The Shamanism Textile. Journal of Ethnobiology, 2(2), 144–153. 

González, J. (2015, August 13). Codex Espangliensis Critical Commentary. Moving Parts Press. https://movingpartspress.com/publications/critcom. 

Groark, K. (2009). Discourses of the Soul: The Negotiation of Personal Agency in Tzotzil Maya Dream Narrative. American Ethnologist, 36(4), 705-721.

Ikas, K., & Anzaldúa, G. (1999). Interview with Gloria Anzaldúa. In Borderlands/La Frontera (pp. 227–246). San Francisco : Aunt Lute Books. 

Isbell, W. H. (2010). La Arqueología Wari y La Dispersión del Quechua . Boletín De Arqueología PUCP (Pontificia Universidad Católica Del Perú), (14), 199–220. 

Jackson, A., Llamas, N., & Behar, R. (n.d.). Intersections: Cultures, identities, narratives. https://apps.lib.umich.edu/online-exhibits/exhibits/show/main. 

Miller, M. E., & O'Neil, M. E. (2014). Maya Art and Architecture. Thames & Hudson. 

Nash, S. S,. (2018). World Literature Today, 92(5), 84-85. doi:10.7588/worllitetoda.92.5.0084

Neile, C., & Behar, R. (2009). Between Textuality and Orality: An Interview with Ruth Behar. Storytelling, Self, Society, 5(3), 145-151.

Past, Á. (n.d.). Taller Leñateros. http://www.tallerlenateros.com/ingles/index_ing.php. 

Poem on the need to speak Quechua, 2016-13.163, in "Berkeley Field Methods: South Bolivian Quechua (2016-2017)", Survey of California and Other Indian Languages, University of California, Berkeley,  http://cla.berkeley.edu/item/24140 .

Raúl, P., Leonardo, C., & Amalia, G. (2017). Capital social y técnicas textiles: Encuentro de artesanas tzotziles y tarahumaras. In Mandujano M., Ochoa J., & Domínguez M. (Eds.), La investigación universitaria y sus contribuciones en Mesoamérica (pp. 119-132). Ciudad de Buenos Aires, Argentina: CLACSO. doi:10.2307/j.ctvtxw269.12

Rice, F. (2020, September 30). El Alfabeto Animado/The lively Alphabet/Uywakunawan Qelqasqa. Moving Parts Press. https://movingpartspress.com/publications/el_alfabeto_animado. 

Salazar, R. (1970, February 6). Column: Who Is a Chicano? And What Is It the Chicanos Want? Los Angeles Times.