Introduction: Sandra Cisneros 

p. 5 A Mestizo Feminism: the Art of Kathy Sosa Ricardo Romo 

p. 9 KATHY SOSA: Cosmic Race Portraiture Carla Stellweg 

p. 47 Past and Present: Reflections on the Tree of Life Jennifer Speed, Ph. D 

p. 53 Day of the Dead Gentleman Callers and Their Muse On My Mind: Homage to Mom Kathy Sosa

p. 187 Fine Art Meets Street Art In Defense of Borderland Culture Kathy Sosa

p. 223 Artist Statement 

p. 231 A Little About Coming to be an Artist and The Mestizaje that Inspires Me Kathy Sosa 

p. 237 About the Essayists

SERIES

p. 21 Face Painting + 52 

p. 43 Trees of Life 

p. 115 Personalidades Grandes 

p. 129 Winged Creatures 

p. 147 Paperwork 

p. 157 Found Objects

p. 169 Huipiles 

p. 185 Artivism, Installations & Public Art

p. 217 Revolutionary Women

p. 227 Career Highlights

From the border between girlhood and adulthood, Kathy came to live in San Antonio in 1968, when the city hosted the World’s Fair and welcomed newcomers. San Antonio was an explosive big city for an adolescent looking to belong. Like most individuals launching into maturity, she peered into the nuevo mundo laid out before her and resisted her past. Kathy chose to cross borders, because she did not want to emulate the segregated life of her childhood. Comforted by the familiar and marveling at the new, she easily relinquished pork rinds for chicharrones, black eyed peas for frijoles, buttermilk biscuits for breakfast tacos.

A brief foray at Incarnate Word High School inspired Kathy to abandon the austerity of her Protestant upbringing and acquire a genuine admiration for the rococo altars of saints and angels. She went through several more metamorphoses in her life, meeting remarkable situations and astonishing individuals, each inviting her to cross a border a step at a time until arriving at her current life.

This invitation to cross borders inspires Kathy Sosa’s art to this day. Because the story the Alamo forgets to remember is that South Texas is particularly unique for former adversaries wedding one another. Die-hard Chicanos with “gringo” surnames abound, as do blonde “Blancas” honoring a long-ago abuelita, proving the universe is large enough to encompass contradictions.

Inducted twice into the Tex/Mex heritage by way of marriage and motherhood, Kathy Sosa has evolved an intriguing blend of cultures. The trees of life that figure predominantly in her paintings are ultimately portraying her own life tree, as observer and participant.

Kathy Sosa’s artwork is intensely woman-centered. It’s as joyous as discovering an armoire packed with precious vintage cloth. As a textile collector myself, I appreciate this. The polka-dots in her art are as reminiscent of Alabama quilts as they are of Tehuantepec fabric. Turn any Oaxacan huipil inside out, and you will see the beloved dotted design. The brilliant, embroidered flowers from the iconographic huipiles of the Mexican isthmus were coopted from shawls delivered by Manila galleons that touched the shores of Acapulco after forays in China, their true source.

For the record, the beautiful lace headdresses the Tehuanas are famous for also arrived by way of Colonial-era trade. They say they were originally Dutch christening gowns, till some Zapoteca trend-setter decided to wear one on her head. And how did the Bolivian indigenous women acquire the European derby? Pull one thread and the whole story connects one culture to another.

So, it is no surprise that Kathy Sosa’s art should weave new worlds to old, present to past. Are these angels and icons in Kathy’s paintings inspired from St. Petersburg or Constantinople or Florence? Or perhaps from the gilded altar in Taxco? Or maybe from the Little Flower Basilica on San Antonio’s West Side. It’s hard to know.

What I do know is this. Kathy Sosa sees women as glorious beings. Trees of life gathered from Mexican folk art morph into crowns, ornate headdresses made of gardens raising their subjects to the status of goddesses and saints. She adds nimbi around their hair to remind us these aren’t just ordinary portraits of neighbors and friends, but women distilled, women spirit-filled. Maybe history ignored them, but here they are rightfully honored

I am thinking of the late Sra. María Luisa Camacho de López, a San Antonio huipilista who taught Kathy and me about Mexican culture. The subject of one of Kathy’s paintings, our revered maestra shared her knowledge generously and altered our lives and art irrevocably. It is only proper that she should be exalted and remembered here. We thought her gorgeous and said so. “Ustedes me ven con ojos de amor,” she would say. But that’s what we do, isn’t it? When we admire someone, some thing. See them with eyes of love.

For the art of Kathy Sosa is above all celebratory. Alive even when honoring death. Delivered with admiration. She is seeing her subjects with “ojos de amor.” There can be no higher praise than that. 

Sandra Cisneros

September 26, 2023