El Horno No Está Pa’ Galleticas — a little Cuban humor, a little family history, and one very familiar sewing tin.
This painting was created in honor of my great-grandmother, Mima, who was born on 8•18•18. She was a force to be reckoned with—a leader, a treasured family member, and a dear friend who was loved by so many. She loved her numbers, 81818, and they continue to show up everywhere for me.
After leaving Cuba for Miami in the late 1950s, Mima and Papi-Luis opened Helen Marine in 1962, a boat upholstery business where her sewing skills became the foundation for something much bigger. The business thrived and remained family-owned for more than 50 years.
Through sewing, ambition and hard work, Mima helped create the path to the American dream for herself and her family.
Her hands were always creating—sewing dresses, repairing clothes, making things, cooking delicious meals and giving the best hugs.
And then there was the sewing tin.
The one so many of us remember opening as children, absolutely certain there would be cookies inside… only to find buttons, thread, needles and every little sewing treasure imaginable.
The title, “El Horno No Está Pa’ Galleticas,” is a playful nod to a familiar Cuban saying meaning, essentially, “not today” or “I’m not in the mood.” And in this case, there really aren’t any cookies either.
This painting is for Mima, for the women who came before us, and for all those little everyday objects that somehow hold an entire lifetime of memories.
I was fortunate enough to share 20 years with Mima, and I’m forever grateful for everything I absorbed from her—the creativity, determination, love, and countless little memories that stayed with me.
I believe she would have loved this one.
El Horno No Está Pa’ Galleticas — a little Cuban humor, a little family history, and one very familiar sewing tin.
This painting was created in honor of my great-grandmother, Mima, who was born on 8•18•18. She was a force to be reckoned with—a leader, a treasured family member, and a dear friend who was loved by so many. She loved her numbers, 81818, and they continue to show up everywhere for me.
After leaving Cuba for Miami in the late 1950s, Mima and Papi-Luis opened Helen Marine in 1962, a boat upholstery business where her sewing skills became the foundation for something much bigger. The business thrived and remained family-owned for more than 50 years.
Through sewing, ambition and hard work, Mima helped create the path to the American dream for herself and her family.
Her hands were always creating—sewing dresses, repairing clothes, making things, cooking delicious meals and giving the best hugs.
And then there was the sewing tin.
The one so many of us remember opening as children, absolutely certain there would be cookies inside… only to find buttons, thread, needles and every little sewing treasure imaginable.
The title, “El Horno No Está Pa’ Galleticas,” is a playful nod to a familiar Cuban saying meaning, essentially, “not today” or “I’m not in the mood.” And in this case, there really aren’t any cookies either.
This painting is for Mima, for the women who came before us, and for all those little everyday objects that somehow hold an entire lifetime of memories.
I was fortunate enough to share 20 years with Mima, and I’m forever grateful for everything I absorbed from her—the creativity, determination, love, and countless little memories that stayed with me.
I believe she would have loved this one.
