Marlo Cobb Saucedo has been drawing since she could hold a crayon. She attended four summers of scholarship classes at the MFAH’s Glassell Junior School (1980-1983), and then pursued non-related activity, including a psychology B.A. from Davidson College (1991), an M.B.A. from U.T. Austin (1995), and professional positions within various companies before getting serious about art.

Most of Marlo's work is rather labor-intensive. Her acrylic paintings are done in the pointillism technique, containing 1,000 to 3,500 brightly painted squares which form a photo-realistic image if seen from far away, and most of them have a textual message which can only be seen up close. Her attachment to journalism (Marlo's articles have been published in the Houston Press and New York's Cover magazine) leads her to favor the inclusion of paragraphs within her pieces. All of Marlo's work is meant to be seen differently from far away and from up close, as we sometimes form different impressions of places and people from their reputations and their appearances until we get to know them more intimately.

Marlo's artworks have been actively commissioned since 1999 and have been featured in the City Gallery at Wells Fargo Plaza, the "Living Art" Gallery at the Aquarium Design Group, and at the Rotunda Gallery at St. Luke's United Methodist Church. They are regularly on the walls of Kaveh Kanes Coffee downtown, and they also appear in Metro's Downtown Trolley brochure (featuring the interior of Kaveh Kanes). Most recently they were part of Blossom Street Gallery's group exhibit for ArtHouston. Marlo and her husband Alex live downtown.

Future v. Face
24” x 30” Acrylic and ink on canvas (2002)

We all have to walk around with a skin around us – male, female, young, old, good-looking, not-so-good-looking. Where we place the external’s importance and how we deal with it is up to us.

Words written on painting:

I remain confused as to whether beauty does or does not matter. Most of the beautiful people I know have it shining from beneath their skin. Past the hollow years, when I was always wanting to be someone else, most of the time I don’t even think about it. Most of the time. We all reach a point where we look in the mirror at a face we have grown to accept if not love. It is at this time age’s assault on our looks earnestly begins … and so we are prepared.

El Santuario de Chimayó
24” x 24” Acrylic and marker on canvas (2002)

On the way from Sante Fe to Taos Ski Valley there is a chapel (circa 1814) housing a shrine called “El Santuario de Chimayó, otherwise known as the “Lourdes of America.” There’s a room within the chapel with walls lined with crutches, photos, and testimonies of cures from the faithful who have made pilgrimages to Chimayó hoping for a miracle. A hole in the floor of this room is open to the dirt below; visitors routinely take small amounts of the dirt, which is said to be holy, in order to keep it in their homes. As my mother-in- law explains, “it’s all a matter of faith.”

Words around the border:
“Mandas” is very much rooted in Spanish culture; when something happens, we pray. A special tradition takes place on Good Friday: People from all over the country, even outside the country, make the pilgrimage to Chimayó. It usually starts in Santa Fe, and people walk all the way; some carry a cross, some walk it barefoot – to show penance and give thanks for healing and blessings received; during the Vietnam War many were soldiers making the pilgrimage in thanks for safe return. People leave mementos in the room leading to the miraculous dirt –crutches, braces, full army uniforms from grateful soldiers and countless little charms in the shape of an arm or leg to represent healing. When we find ourselves in situations of despair, mandas are a beacon of hope and we say, “Lord, I know you will help me - I will do this in return.” It’s been criticized as trying to strike a deal with God or the saints, but, it’s all in the way you look at it. It’s an act of faith. They’re just things that you hope. The priest at Chimayó is wonderful if you can catch him. He always says, “Don’t think it’s the dirt that heals – it’s your faith. That is what brought you here in the first place.”

Sunset In My Neighborhood
18” x 36” Acrylic on canvas (2002)

It’s great, especially for a native, to be just coming down Memorial from the grocery and be thinking as those majestic towering monoliths come into view, “Hey, there’s my neighborhood.”

(By the way, some of us who live here just go to the Kroger on West Gray, which is convenient
because there’s also a Walgreen’s, a dry cleaner’s and a Blockbuster ….)

Haley at 27
24” x 24” Acrylic and marker on canvas (1999)

This painting, one of three of my sisters and me, normally hangs at my parents’ house. Each person's "life story” of the time is written on the side of each painting. You can read them up close (by tilting your head to the left), but in doing so you cannot see the face of the person who wrote each story. The further back you step, though, the faces are clear, but what they have to say becomes blurry. This is kind of like what happens when you meet someone: their appearance becomes less important as you care more about who they are and what’s up in their lives.