An excerpt from my chapter in Dancing with the Zapatistas.

Entering the Zapatista community in Oventic near San Cristóbal, Mexico, the first time in 2009 and seeing the painted houses is a visually overwhelming experience. The first building  we pass through the gates is the Sociedad Cooperative Arte de Mujers por La Dignidad (Arts Cooperative of the Women of Dignity) with murals on either side of the door. On the right there is a mural with a man and women holding guns and a child in between them holding the Mexican Flag. The woman is surrounded by calla lilies like those painted by Diego Rivera, the great Mexican muralist. They form an aura around her much like the one around the Virgen of Guadalupe, which we see on the walls of the medical center in the center of the caracol. To left of the door a group of women stand together – a few of the women gaze at the viewer, but most look to the right and seem to be on the move. Some have guns; one has a guitar. A jaguar and a young boy holding a gun complete the group. The murals guide me. It is hard to resist frantically photographing every one.  It is the images of women I notice most. They are looking at me, standing guard with guns, reading, weaving, dancing, singing, flying, and holding up the sky. Seeing my favorite murals again on my second and third trips was like seeing old friends. I visited them all, re-photographing some. I could tell they are well cared for—my favorite one of the women with the red bandana clearly had been repainted and restored – she was glowing in 2013. Some seemed to have been painted over, and new ones added. It wasn't until I got home and looked through my photographs from previous years that I saw how many were changed over the years. When getting face-lifts, they are also transformed. This pastiche effect is ideological, aesthetic, and political as murals are constantly updated to respond to current conditions