When I began envisioning this altar, I knew I wanted to create something reminiscent of the ofrendas I remember from my childhood in Pátzcuaro, while weaving in Japanese elements throughout. This project became very much a family endeavor. My mother shared her flower-crafting techniques, my brother Iván helped build and reinforce the structure of the altarpiece, and my spouse, Brandon, assisted with foraging pinecones and setting up the display. An ofrenda, above all, is a labor of love created by and for family.

The altar is composed of more than three hundred flowers: some plastic, some natural (dried lavender), and others handcrafted from dyed cornhusks. Three different types of pinecones were foraged: some from the Sierra Nevada, others from the UC Berkeley campus, and a few from a Metasequoia gifted by Kimi Hill. A tree thought to have been extinct since the Miocene but rediscovered after World War II. The pinecones were chosen to represent Obata’s deep love for trees; in much of his work, one can almost always find a tree and often, a pinecone standing as a quiet symbol of endurance and the heavenly and earthly realms.

For the Purépecha people of Michoacán, the monarch butterfly and corn hold deep cultural and spiritual significance. Each fall, as the monarchs migrate from Canada and the United States to the mountains near Pátzcuaro, their arrival coincides with Día de los Muertos and is believed to represent the returning souls of ancestors. The butterfly thus becomes a living symbol of migration, transformation, and the enduring connection between worlds.

Likewise, corn, a sacred plant in mesoamerican cultures, is seen as the sustenance of life, representing both nourishment and cultural continuity. Together, these symbols embody the resilience of the Michoacán region and mirror the immigrant experience: movement across borders, renewal through change, and the deep roots that sustain identity across time and place.