Master of Fine Arts Thesis
Shifts in our constellation(s)
Isabel Monti
Submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of Masters of Fine Arts, School of Art and Design
Alfred-Düsseldorf Painting
New York State Collage of Ceramics at Alfred University Alfred, NY
2022
<Isabel Monti> , MFA
<Kevin Wixted>, Thesis Advisor
Shifts in our constellation(s) Abstract:
My painting practice is an act of mourning. Mourning is a necessary externalization of the internalize grief that everyone will face, perhaps continuously face, during their life time.
Mourning of the decease presents a way of not only healing, but also the extension of the life of the deceased. We can find connection through objects and photos as they possess a spiritual power, seen across many cultures. The object’s ability to conjure someone’s presence through memories can provide relief. However, no matter the connection or the collection, these objects or photos will still leave us longing for the physical, real thing. Through my painting practice I seek to represent the magic qualities of these objects, and to speak to their abstract and spiritual nature. Memories are captured in a photo and the remnants of the photo are translated into paint which furthers the act of memorialization and of mourning. The painting of photos and objects has produced a series of repeated motifs which has turned into my personal lexicon of symbols for life, death, and late loved ones. By embedding these symbols into my paintings I can summon late loved ones and talk about these broader topics such as our mortality. The the installation of works emulates a family photos walls, and turned into a space for remembrance.
Though I will always be searching for something that I will never totally understand, I have found home and connection in this body of work that allows me to still communicate and behold those who are gone.
Dedication
To my grandmother, who shared with me her love for art, an appreciation for beauty, and the power of following your dreams.
&
To those who have supported me on this unimaginable journey, my professors Kevin, Stephanie, Jutta, Stefan, my parents Brenda and Joe, my brother Peter, and my family and friends. Your
support has meant the world.
Table of Contents 2 Abstract
5 Introduction: Externalization of the Internal 7 A shift in our constellation(s)
9 Historically Ritualistic 13 Conservation of the Soul
17 A collectors guide to fill the void: Ofrendas Glossary of symbols
23 Materiality 26 Home Translated 28 Bibliography
Introduction: Externalization of the Internal
Though I have been painting and making art since I could hold a crayon, the first time I felt like I had an art practice was after my grandparents passed away a week a part from each other in 2019. For their visitation, my aunt had put together boards of photos, gathered scrap books, collected all their school year books, and testimonies of who they were. For the first time I realized I didn’t fully know who they were. There was so much more to these people around me, my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, for they had a life before me. And that’s when I felt grief. I was sad that I would not be able to share with them the rest of my life, and angry that I did not have more time to hear the stories of their lives. All I was left with was with photos, passed down trinkets, and the stories from my surviving family.
I became fascinated by these objects and examined them closely trying to piece together a timeline and a story of who my grandparents were and where I came from. The first painting I had done based off of one of these family photos was a gift for my father, as the timing of their deaths coincided with Father’s Day. I had recognized that a lot of the heartache from this loss was not only for myself, but for him as he lost his parents too. The image I had painted was of my young grandparents sitting in their living room where my grandma is pregnant with my dad. I felt honored to be a part of this memory of my grandparents young and in love about to start a family. This photo is my father’s origin story. I had found a comfort in the act of painting this photo as it was a way to spend time with my grandparents and to channel it into an outer physical expression.
Grief is defined as the response to loss. It is a type of pain that is universal as we all face loss throughout our lives whether it be a death of a person, a death of a relationship, or loss of
something we held so closely. Mourning is how we conventionally deal with these feelings, it is the process of externalization of deep and complicated internal feelings. It is an important and necessary process we must allow ourselves. If not, we will be consumed by our grief which can lead to a variety of pathological outcomes both mentally and physically. This is why we can find universally across cultures rituals of mourning. This performance allows us to find peace and comfort while also being able to extend the life of the lost, as they live on through our
remembering and celebrating. The communal act of mourning is so powerful as it brings us closer to our loved ones (both living and dead), as well as, brings us closer to ourselves.
A shift in our constellations
“The death of a family member affects everyone else in the family, even those who are not yet born. It changes the entire constellation of relational dynamics.”1 – Guy Cools
The cover of Guy Cools’s book Performing Mourning: Laments in Contemporary Art is a periwinkle blue that is speckled with orange dots that emulates the stars at dusk. Black
amorphous shapes that fade in and out as though we are looking up at the night sky partially obstructed by trees or buildings. The cover reminds me of the times I would go up north to Fence lake, WI, 5 hours from my house, with my family to spend a week together in cabin enjoying lake life. There is a pier that juts out into the middle of the lake. At night when the water was still it made for the best spot to view the stars. Many times I have laid down on the damp dock engulfed in stillness and pin downed by awe as I beheld the stars. Never before then had I really had a sense of a connection to the universe. To feel so small, yet so whole. I felt the gazes of all the ancestors above, twinkling in the night sky.
Thinking of the family unit as a constellation, or a collection of relationships that make up a greater unit, reflects the power of loss and connection. When a family member passes away, the constellation is permanently altered, forever shifted to something new and something
different, to be felt by the following events. When our constellations have shifted we see this change reflected into the night sky. A new star appears upon the horizon, eventually a familial constellation forms above to look down on you to remind us that though things look and feel different they are never truly gone.
1 Guy Cools, Performing Mourning: Lamenting in Contemporary Art ( Netherlands, Valiz, 2021) 29.
A cellphone w/ an unopened message To let you know how much I miss you But you already know
That even the petals fall Yet you still water me Watch me grow
In the mirror your gaze appears Kind eyes where I can rest
The same eyes that are scattered across my studio Always there
Always in reach When I want to see
Historically ritualistic
The experience of loss is inevitable. Though this can come with great pain, societies have embraced ways to mourn and help each other heal. Across many cultures, including those of my heritage, Mexican and Italian, we see that there is a specific time of the year that is believed to be spiritually powerful. The beginning of November is a time where the threshold between earth and the beyond is thin and can allow for spirits to reenter the living realm. In Mexico this celebration is known as Dia de los Muertos. Starting as an indigenous people’s tradition of southern Mexico, Mikailwitl and Wey Mikailwilt, (feast of the little dead and great feast of the dead) was originally celebrated in August. Upon the conquering of Mexico, the indigenous resisted the adoption of the catholic All Saints day by secretly interjecting their own rituals during the catholic ceremonies.2 My family has its own personalize form of this tradition. My mother, titi, and abuela will place a candle with a photo of our late abuelo and other deceased family members during these days and on the anniversary of their death. Though our way is a bit more quite and simple it still has the same powerful sentiment.
In countries that heavily practice Catholicism, such as Italy, we see the practice of All Saints’ day and All Souls’ Day also during these two days in November. All Souls’ Day is where Italians get to celebrate late loved ones. Traditions vary across the nation, but often
include taking chrysanthemums to the grave sites of the deceased. A feast is also had with lots of food, sweets, and wine. One tradition that I find particularly interesting is that in Sardinia. The family will leave the table set with food, sweets, and drinks as they leave the house to visit the graves. They are expecting the spirits of their family to visit while they are gone giving them
2 Kurly Tlapoyawa, “The Indigenous roots of Day of the Dead.”, Knowable, Nov. 1st 2017,
https://kurlytlapoyawa.medium.com/how-did-all-saints-day-become-day-of-the-dead-a727f3eb4c1a
uninterrupted time to enjoy the feast.3 This idea of summing and gathering both of the living and the dead is something that has an incredible power to unite and help feel a little less lost during an already difficult time.
Guy Cools, in his book, goes into the practice of lamenting that is in Greek culture known as moirológhia. This is an improvised musical and oral performance of a song of mourning “used to commemorate separations from loved ones at funerals, weddings (when the bride leaves her family to go live with her in laws, also making a separation), and in exile.”4 These our
performed by moirolói singers during the wake part of the funeral. The song is a mix of dialogue between the living and the dead where the singer gives voices to both, and with crying and wailing. What makes or breaks a performance is the balance of narration and emotion. The moirolói singer will often think back to their own loss and channel that into the performance.
The singers can also be accompanied by a chorus. The mixture of the soloist and the echoing of cries from the chorus is meant to provide a path to mourn and release grief in tears, movement, and sound which can be quite powerful. Though mourning rituals may look different across cultures, the underlying principle letting out grief is universally understood as a positive and important process.
3 Cucina Toscana, “Italian Feasts - All Saints’ & All Souls’ Day.” Cucina Toscana, November 3, 2016,
https://toscanaslc.com/blog/italian-feast-all-saints-day-and-all-souls-day/.
4 Cools, 37.
For what is life without death?
A beginning to never see an end The journey without a destination But who is to say death is an end Inescapable nonetheless
Continuously running to an unknown place But loss we will face wherever we go
No man left untouched burdened with this pain But alas in the dark we are united
By Pain(t)
Shouldered together
Rituals tether us connected even beyond Where mortal bodies can go
I Paint To savor And embrace the pain
They say it’s in the light where you can feel God, 15 cm x 10 cm, Oil on panel, 2022
Conservation of the Soul
Both of my parents are engineers. So, I grew up with an appreciation for math and science, as well as, art. For my undergrad, I went in as a biochemistry major, but through the years filled in gaps of my schedule with art and ended up with a double major in biochemistry and studio art. This lead me to think of my undergrad experience as the study of the human condition, investigating both the physical and the emotional. It has guided me through life to appreciate science and the tangible world, but yet still find moments of magic and the spiritual, the accepting of the intertwining of the universe through intangible and invisible forces.
…
During my studies in physics (a requirement of biochemistry) I learned of the three fundamental laws of thermodynamics that help to explain our world. The first law is the law of conservation of energy. This law states that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. It can only be transferred or change form, thus energy can go through cycles or be recycled into the system.
This law is also connected to the Law of Conservation of Mass through Einstein’s equation E=mc^2. E is energy and m stands for mass. In science, a law is an observed phenomenon that is accepted universally. The law does not seek to explain why the phenomenon happens, but rather to state that it does happen. Accepted, but not responsible of explaining. Do we need to have everything explained? Can the human mind be satisfied by just knowing something exists, to trust what we feel in our body or what is seen around us?
I will now make a case as to why we can hypothesize that souls have energy and thus are not destroyed but survive beyond death. Let me start with matter. Matter is something physical with both mass and volume. Mass is the measurement of inertia, which is the resistance for a body of matter to change speed or position upon being acted on by a force. We are each made up
of matter, and thus have a mass, ie your weight, and experience inertia (the feeling of being pushed into your car seat as you accelerate at a green light). Through Einstein’s equation we can see that human beings too have energy, though it is minuscule. But does the soul have energy?
When thinking about our intangible aspects such as the soul and our consciousness there is a bit more debate in the realm of science. The first issue is how do we measure the soul without it having mass. Take light for example, we can see and feel it. It can warm our skin or affect our mood. Light is made up of massless photons. Even though light is massless, it can be measured by its velocity and energy. We can feel and experience the soul, through love and loss, but we have yet to find a way to prove of its existence. We have to define what the soul is made of and how to measure it. If we think of the soul as energy and assume its massless existence similar to light we can extend the law of conservation energy and thus understand that it does not die with our bodies, but continues on.
…
Prof. Dr. Hans-Peter Dürr, former head of the Max Planck Institute for Physics in Munich, represents the opinion that the dualism of the smallest particles is not limited to the subatomic world, but instead is omnipresent. In other words: the dualism between the body and the soul is just as real to him as “wave-particle dualism” of the smallest particles. According to his view, a universal quantum code exists that applies for all living and dead matter. This quantum code supposedly spans the entire cosmos. Consequently, Dürr believes – again based on purely physical considerations – in an existence after death. He explains this as follows in an interview he gave:
“What we consider the here and now, this world, it is actually just the material level that is comprehensible. The beyond is an infinite reality that is much bigger. Which this world is rooted in. In this way, our lives in this plane of existence are encompassed, surrounded, by the
afterworld already. When planning I imagine that I have written my existence in this world on a sort of hard drive on the tangible (the brain), that I have also transferred this data onto the spiritual quantum field, then I could say that when I die, I do not lose this information, this consciousness. The body dies but the spiritual quantum field continues. In this way, I am immortal.”5
…
Laura Jackson explains in her book Signs that universe is divided into two realms. The side of the living and the Other Side as she has coined it. Here is where our souls go when we pass and messages or signs are able to cross back over to the mortal realm.6 It is as if the threshold is semi permeable. It allows energy to go through, but not our physical beings. She further explains that what determines a sign comes from each specific relationship with the decease. Something that is special to both you and your late love one can be used to give an acknowledgement of their presence and their guidance. Jackson gives examples of signs such as rainbows, birds, deer, trees, giraffes, the Eiffel Tower, queen of hearts card, etc7. With energy being the underlaying mesh of both worlds, this makes it possible to send signs.
Jackson elaborates in her book:“The conductive force behind any sign is energy. The universe is made of matter, and all matter is essentially condensed energy. The Other Side comprises the light and energy of all our souls put together. Energy, therefore, is the currency
5 Dr. Rolf Froböse, “Scientists Find Hints for the Immortality of the Soul”, The Huffington Post, June 17th, 2014,
https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/rolf-froboese/scientists-find-hints-for-the-immortality-of-the-soul_b_5499969.html
6 Laura Lynn Jackson, Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe, (New York, Spiegel & Grau, 2019) xviii.
7 Jackson, xix.
that binds us all – the connective tissue of the entire universe. Even Albert Einstein cited the connection between matter and energy, stating, “Mass and energy are both but different manifestations of the same thing – a somewhat unfamiliar conception for the average mind.””8
As an artist and a scientist, I choose to trust history, my intuition, and the laws of science that present our known world. Though we cannot measure the soul quantitatively, we can feel it in the relationships we have. When someone dies their life is lost, but the relationship you have with them is not lost, just as their energy (their soul) is not lost. We can see this through signs, through the universe, through objects, and through our surviving loved ones. It is important to embrace this and the act of mourning as to not miss out on joy, healing, and an greater
understanding of how we are all connected.
8 Jackson, 62.
A collector’s guide to fill the void: Ofrendas
We have a collective history of mourning. Within this history, objects have proven to be a crucial part of the mourning practice. As mentioned earlier, one of the practices of Dia de los Muertos is to bring ofrendas (offerings) for loved ones to be places upon an altar. The objects chosen are often favorite foods, alcohol, flowers, cards, and photos of the deceased. There are other ornaments for this holiday such as marigolds petals, skulls, and candles that have specific roles. For example, Marigolds are believe to have the power to harness the energy of the sun and can help guide the deceased back to their loved ones. These objects and ornaments help provide a way to engaged with the decease and thus extend their lives and our connection to them.
My work is inspired by family photographs and passed down objects as they provide me with a sense of connection to my late love ones. From these sources, I paint from both photos and from life. I like to have these objects, such as pins, dishes, perfume bottles, and other gifted trinkets with me in the studio. They often are decorated with patterns of flowers, which has lead to the association of flowers with my grandmother. Buying flowers and painting them as they decay in front of me has become a part of my practice, symbolizing the cycle of life. I also create still-life’s with objects that remind me of other family members, such as bringing in canned goods for a specific recipe, movie stubs, chess pieces, or playing cards. When I have the physical photo I like to have that in the studio with me as well. To see the image along with the creases and the scratches reminds me of the journey the photo itself has taken. The studio further wears it and I cant help that they often come out destroyed, ripped and splotched with paint.
…
Contemporary painter, Jennifer Packer, has used still life painting as a way to approach the grief she was facing. Her funerary flower paintings are a way to speak to the irreconcilable
grief she was facing over a stranger. Say Her Name, was painted after the death of Sandra Bland who was put into custody for three days by the police after being pulled over for a minor traffic incident. In a moment of collective mourning across the nation, Packer didn’t want to center herself in this pain, but needed a way to process and she found that through the funerary bouquet.
Funerary flowers are a staple in American funerals and are often use as a way to provide some beauty and life into a somber moment. In an interview with Packer she says, “I hit this point where I was thinking about the funeral bouquet as a sort of metaphor for the painting practice as a whole: there’s this final decorative moment that’s intended to embody the interests and life of a person you’ve lost. It’s completely insufficient.”9 In a way this is how I feel about these old family photos. The photographs I collect will never totally be able to fill the hole in my heart.
They are insufficient. Yet, I am completely fascinated as I still cling to them. Translating them to paint is a way to process this duality and make up for what they lack.
In Packer’s words, “painting can go where photography cant.”10 This idea resonates with me. The photo is a 1 to 1 copy of what is seen. It captures the memory of that exact moment, but it lacks the nuances of emotions. Painting has the opportunity to go further and bring in a voice.
It is through aging that these family photos inherit nostalgia. This is evident in the way the colors have faded, and the photos have creased. Like memory, the photo degrades over time. Painting is a way to bring out even further these qualities that come from the fading of the photo and can speak to these more abstract feelings of nostalgia, bittersweetness, longing, estrangement, déjà vu, etc. I have gravitated towards smaller panels that reference the size of these photos and also talk about the object hood as they sit out from the wall. Working with these photos has opened
9 Jennifer Packer, Jennifer Packer: The Eye is Not Satisfied with Seeing, edited by Melissa Blanchflower and
Natalie Grabowska, (London, Serpentine, 2021) 77.
10 Packer, 85.
up new avenues of approaching the composition. The older photos are often in a square format and come with a smaller bonus photo. One was meant to be framed on your wall and the second for your wallet. They come together with a perforated edge to easily be separated. This format has brought me to think about having two images next to each other. This allows me to in one painting to carry an idea or a story across multiple images. In a similar way working with the smaller sized panels allows me to group and collect the paintings as if they were photos hung in your family room, telling a story of longing across a wall.
I am so scared to forget you, 20 cm x 30 cm, oil on panel, 2022
Installation, 4 meters, 2022
Just as there is a collection, there are individuals. The photos serve as memories and to talk about the idea of longing but also repeated imagery has turned into a lexicon of personal symbols. To speak in a broader way about life, death, and longing, I’ve combined my personal photos with symbols used in Vanitas, the Nordic still lives that were thematically set up with specific objects to tell a message, often warning of vanity and worldly things as life is short. The body of work is then made up of a mix of old family photos, photos I have taken, and sketches from my imagination. Growing up in the digital age, the fascination with analog is always underlying, but I recognize that both are important to talk about the power of photo.
Glossary of symbols
Skull – The fragility of life, inevitability of mortality Books – human curiosity and knowledge
Decaying flowers – the decay of the body, inevitable mortality Upside down flowers – Death and decay, our mortality
Jewelry – temporal nature of beauty, transience of beauty of the body and of nature Candles – the human soul, blown out is lost of the soul
Circles – symbol of youth
Table - a place to gather, space of the family Queen of Diamonds – my grandmother, Mary 9 of hearts – my abuela, Manola
Chess Black Knight – my grandfather, Joseph Flowers – my grandmother, Mary
Cellphone – communication, sending messages
Our cyclic nature, 20 cm x 30 cm, Oil on panel, 2022.
Materiality
I love thinned oil paint. I love the way it covers the surface sinking in rather than sitting on top. It brings light to the surface. This provides the start to each of my painting’s journey.
The surface itself is consists of several layers of gesso that are sanded in between application with the final pass being gloss medium to give a shiny film like quality. Then raw sienna or red is rubbed into the surface to stain acting as the first inkling of a memory. I use thin washes to highlight the hauntings in a photo and to create an atmosphere. When I think of intangible quality of a memory, I think of airy washes of color. From there, shapes are blocked in, typically with a darker color, creating the image through negative and positive space. Images are worked out of the surface first and then placed onto it.
Patches of thicker paint are used to point out the more physical aspects of these old photos such as the boarders of each photo. The inclusion of the boarders or partial boarders of the photographs brings further distance between the viewer and the work. These paintings acknowledge both the possibilities of feeling connected but also the reminder of what is held in the photo will always be of the past. Thus, A lot of the images end up abstracted to speak to this nature of us longing, never quite fully satisfied, and thus the search of something continues in the act of collecting.
The colors are heighten to establish a mood or a sense of whimsy. This body of work is leaning into the browns and grays of faded photos, but then are toned with non local colors, reds, oranges, pinks, and blues. A key figured or object is highlighted with these colors to stick out against the muted grain of the photo. Occasionally, I will use spray paint as a ground for a painting. Spray paint provides a bright and hazy atmosphere to work from that also reminds me of the qualities of memory. Its often warm and inviting as the colors melt into each other
effortlessly. This way, I can also glaze with muted colors over the bright spray paint. It creates a sense of the image being back lit. I can also achieve a pixel like quality from spray paint that references digital photography depending on the nozzle that is used.
As I paint the image, I will pull the paint across leaving the image blurred. The act of blurring relates to how recalling a memory unknowingly degrades it further leaving you more with a feeling rather than a complete moment. Being in Düsseldorf, Gerhard Richter looms as a painting giant, as the way he deals with the photo is so iconic. His use of the blur to abstract the photo has become extremely recognizable and is always associated with him. As he puts it, "I blur to make everything equal, everything equally important and equally unimportant."11 The blur does relate inherently to memory, but I see it more as a way to point to the failings rather than to equalize everything. The blur is the visualization of the degradation and the lack of having the real thing, being left with only a substitute. It symbolizes the fact that we have to make do with less.
11 Tom McCarthy, “Blurred visionary: Gerhard Richter’s photo-paintings”, The Guardian, September 22nd, 2011, https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2011/sep/22/gerhard-richter-tate-retrospective-panorama
Picking up the puzzle pieces, 10 cm x 15 cm, oil on panel, 2022
Home translated
Coming to Düsseldorf, felt like coming home. It felt like fate. As I saw the city first unroll from my taxi window the sun shined to greet me. When I returned in February finding relief from the frigid cold of Alfred, NY I was surprised with rainbows. It was as if they were a sign to say I was exactly were I ought to be. It felt like coming home.
The idea of home has been mulled over in my mind while I make, especially in regards to family. I was asked what home meant to me for an online exhibition by Arts of Hearts that I was in. I spoke to a special place that contained your loved ones and your precious belongings. And in this place you go to rest and recharge, and feel yourself authentically.
In the English language we use the words home and house for this idea. House is the physical place where you reside, often associated with a stand alone building in suburbs of a city or in the country side. Home can be used to similarly describe a physical place, but also serve a more abstract idea that is found in a person, place, feeling, or a combination of these. It makes me think of the Christian idea of a church. When we think of a church we think of a religious building, but actually a church is defined as the group of people that come together in their faith rather than the building itself. Home in a way is similar to this idea. We can find home in our family who nurture and bring us joy. Home can be your favorite spot in the park surrounded by trees and singing birds where your mind is at ease. Or whenever you are with your best friend sharing secrets and laughs.
Being in Düsseldorf and being introduced to the German language, I have found the beauty in where we see ideas that span across cultures such as these nuanced ideas of home. For example, in German, there are two words that translate to the idea of Home. Zuhause is used
similarly to the word house in English. It refers to a building that houses you, it is also translated as crib leading me to think of the physical place of comfort when we are young, where we grow.
Then there is Heimat. Heimat translates to city of your birth, homeland, habitat, mother country.
It is more of a feeling of where you originate or come from, where you belong. I believe this is often why we associate home with family and vice versa. Our family lineage is our history and our parents are our origins.
I have realized that my practice has become a way to find home when those that were once my home are no longer here. It’s in the photos or the objects that hold their memories, in my mother and father who reflect my grandparents, in the conversations we have, and in the act of painting that allows me to mourn, to remember, to celebrate, and to continue to hold close.
Bibliography
Cools, Guy. Performing Mourning: Laments in Contemporary Art. Netherlands: valiz, 2021.
Cucina Toscana. “Italian Feasts - All Saints’ & All Souls’ Day.” Cucina Toscana, November 3, 2016. https://toscanaslc.com/blog/italian-feast-all-saints-day-and-all-souls-day/.
Froböse, Dr. Rolf. “Scientists Find Hints for the Immortality of the Soul.” The Huffington Post, June 17th, 2014. https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/rolf-froboese/scientists-find-hints-for-the-immortality-of- the-soul_b_5499969.html
Jackson, Laura, Lynn. Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe. New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2019.
McCarthy, Tom. “Blurred visionary: Gerhard Richter’s photo-paintings.” The Guardian, September 22nd, 2011. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2011/sep/22/gerhard-richter- tate-retrospective-panorama
Packer, Jennifer. Jennifer Packer: The Eye Is Not Satisfied with Seeing. Edited by Melissa Blanchflower and Natalia Grabowska. London: Serpentine, 2021.
Tlapoyawa, Kurly. “The Indigenous roots of Day of the Dead.” Knowable. Nov. 1st 2017, https://kurlytlapoyawa.medium.com/how-did-all-saints-day-become-day-of-the-dead- a727f3eb4c1a
