Day Trip to Slovenia: History, Nature and Wine

The region where my grandmother's family is from is right on the border of Italy and Slovenia, which makes for easy cross-cultural day tripping. Several of my childhood friends are Slovene and now work in the wine industry and/or as tour guides. My mom and I spent an afternoon in the able hands of Aleks and Marjana and enjoyed some spectacular nature, history, and local wines.

We started by climbing a spiral staircase belvedere tower in the tiny village of Gonjace. Not for those with fear of heights, but the reward is 360-degree views of the Collio hills, vineyards, terra-cotta roofs, and depending on which way you are looking either the Alps or the Adriatic.

At the top of the belvedere is this compass that shows the direction of the nearby towns and cities. I have a thing for compasses, if you didn't know. :)

Our next stop was Smartno, a historic fortified village that has been beautifully restored.

My friend Alex told us many stories about the culture of the place - like the wreath of dried wildflowers on the door that would have signified there is a single woman at the house who is eligible for marriage...or the importance of having greenery and a grapevine in front of the house.

I first met Aleks and his sister Marjana we were little kids. It's so cool to see where we all are now, and how many of our interests and occupations are aligned. Aleks is a history enthusiast, personal trainer, and regional tour guide who speaks multiple languages.

Aleks took us to a hidden gem in the Brda region of the Slovenian countryside. We drove along a dirt road through grape fields and into the winter forest, and eventually came upon this clear pool with a waterfall. The water spills over a wall that apparently was built by the French during Napoleon's occupation in the late 1700's or early 1800's.

Walking down a small path from the main waterfall, you reach the truly impressive sight: another small waterfall and a natural stone bridge with dark emerald water running underneath. The water color in this part of the world is unreal - either intense deep green or milky turquoise blue - thanks to the karst limestone that makes up most of the river beds. What a gem!

After our nature walk, we headed to the wine cellar (cantina) where Marjana works. It is a large facility but still feels very personal and authentic, especially when you have an inside connection. :)

We got to tour the special reserve cellar that houses something crazy like 80,000 bottles of vintage wine, some dating back to the 1960's. Imagine being able to pick one bottle at random and taste what is inside!

Here I am with Marjana amid oak barrels. She and I are brainstorming some wine tourism ideas: stay tuned, especially if you are interested in visiting this region of the world.

Return to the Origin

I consider myself to be New Mexican, as I was born and raised in Albuquerque and have green chile coursing through my blood. Ask me where I am from and that will forever be my answer (as opposed to where I currently live, which is what most people actually mean with that question).

Ask me where my roots are, though, and I will say a small village in northern Italy called Peci. It is a speck on the map, really. A rural outpost where my grandmother was born and where my maternal side of the family has lived for over 400 years. In European time I suppose that's somewhat commonplace, but the centuries-long continuity blows my mind even though I am part of it.

I spent summers here as a child. This house is etched in my memory. I used to ride a pink bike in the courtyard and make tiaras with the daisies that grew amid the grass. I was afraid of the lizards that would sun themselves on the walls, and (obviously) of the scorpions we'd occasionally find in the cellar or hidden in a forgotten shoe. This house is my heritage, my legacy, my blood.

There are many stories here, well before mine. A lot of gossip. A lot of ghosts. A lot of borders - both international and between neighbors. Class divisions. Endless preoccupation with wealth and status and reputation. Loneliness. Abandonment. Mental and emotional anguish. And yet also the blessed possibility of change. Of growth and evolution from one generation to the next. Of being able to break down walls and rearrange furniture and say, "This isn't how we do it anymore."

Things are different now. We are different now.

The Ride

Amid the heavy emotions I'm feeling lately, there are also many lighthearted moments. Solo dancing for the security cameras in my gallery, enjoying wearing new spring clothes and high heels, trying new restaurants with Rico, being around the family's assorted cats and their funny ways.

Ups and downs, choices, and a big-ass learning curve on this ride called life.

Next up: three weeks in Italy - two of which will be with my mom, and one will be solo. I'll be doing lots of art and writing and dancing, exploring, eating and drinking the region's delights, and taking a welcome break from my regular routine.

I am very lucky.

Half-Life

I turn 34 tomorrow.

I can't remember my birthday last year or what I did to celebrate it. I mean, I'm sure if I look back at my calendar or photos I can piece it together, but offhand it's a blank.

A lot of last year felt blank honestly. Well, a mix of blank and bouncing between "I feel incredible joy, my life is exactly what I've always wished for," and "I feel unbearable pain and something major in my life must change." Exhausting and deeply confusing, all these opposite feelings.

It had been creeping up on me for a while that a major life inventory was due. Then one day in August, it happened. I was no longer afraid to look inside and name my truths. This unstoppable stream of words and emotions and bravery came out of me, and I shared with the people I love.

It's so refreshing to feel like myself again, to turn on the fuck-it button (ligar o foda-se), to learn about what I want and don't want, to be humble and grateful, and to make sure I am living my life accordingly.

Tomorrow, on my birthday, I will:

- Go swimming at 6:15am at the Plunge (the pool by our house that I had been curious about for ages and finally started going to with a couple of girlfriends to swim laps).

- Find something that seems delicious as a birthday treat and go buy it.

- Have a picnic lunch on our deck with Rico, his mom (who is here and loving life in California), and my mom. Hanging out with the moms is one of my favorite things.

- Then I have therapy in Berkeley, with a woman I recently started going to and totally love. (I had been thinking about going to therapy for the last 7 years. Seven!!! I guess you go when you are ready, and I'm so glad I did.)

- In the evening I will go paint with my painting group. (My 90-year-old friend Manny hosts it at his house, and there are two other local artists who attend regularly, plus guest participation by Rico's mom every once in a while.)

Already my birthday this year has been a good one. Pre-birthday, I guess, but whatever. I feel like it's started. My dad told me the first cranes made it to New Mexico on their fall migration, so the kick-off is official.

I just had solo dance party in my gallery, which was fabulous. And I am working on the sketches for a challenging commission, a geometric ring in sterling silver. The design is two lines zig-zagging through life (around the ring band) that eventually converge and intersect at two points. Beautiful concept, but a nightmare to calculate and draw (although this is just the kind of math + pattern + aesthetics problem I love).

There is some major full-circle synchronicity to these rings, too. In the summer of 1999 I was 17 and fell in love with a boy in Brazil. Very long story short, it ended with me heartbroken and full of self-hate. Although we eventually found closure, this person and that relationship have been riding shotgun in my unconscious for the past 17 years. I just realized this is exactly half my lifetime ago!!

Again long story short, I now find myself making promise rings for him and his girlfriend. Today while sketching yet another version of the design, I had an epiphany about the reasons why this half-life relationship has continued to have such a hold on me. I had a major cry, and then lightness. What a wonderful birthday gift, this moment of self understanding.

Power Rings

Mozambican ametrine and 18k gold power ring.

Over the last year I've been making power rings for women. Large gemstones, minimal settings, lots of personal significance. There's something magnetic when a person finds the right stone at the right time. There is an energy that makes you never want to take it off your finger. 

Blue topaz and 10k gold power ring.

These rings are some of my favorite pieces to create. They usher us through chapter changes, whether a round-number birthday, the beginning of a new career, or the loss of a loved one. A power ring is a reminder to be courageous, to be present amid heartache and triumph, and above all to be true to one's self.

Raw Mozambican blue topaz and sterling silver power ring.

Recently I felt the need for a power ring of my own. Back in Maputo, I was introduced to a Dutch diplomat whose hobby was lapidary work. I went to buy some gems one day, and spotted this incredible blue topaz in his "trash pile," an empty Ricoffy container full of rocks that had been rejected for one reason or another. This particular topaz has an inclusion, or internal flaw, that looks like iridescent water bubbles from the right angle. My diplomat contact had started to facet the stone, but when he discovered the defect he abandoned ship. For me, however, it was pure magic. He gave me the stone for free and I remember thinking that one day I would know how to make it into a ring.

Rough blue topaz in asymmetrical sterling silver setting.

That was before we moved to the Bay. Before I applied to CCA. Before I learned how to solder. Before knowing for sure if this crazy idea to change careers would materialize. Six years later, settled in my new identity as a jeweler and an artist, I finally made that fabulous topaz into a power ring.

And just in time... Now more than ever I need a reminder to find myself, be true to myself, be in the moment, and have no fear of the unknown destiny that lies ahead. Life is a bumpy-ass road sometimes, and there's nothing like a luminous, geologically ancient, perfectly flawed rock on my hand to guide me through the turbulence.

Right and Ruined

I've been working on my next body of work, the ruin-ruin again-ruin again concept. Here is a painting that started as a colorful, abstract thing I really liked. Then I ruined it with some dried acrylic pieces attached with woven silver wire. Now I'll ruin it again with these strands of seeds (they're just placed on the painting right now so I can get an idea of composition).

After writing the other day, I went ahead and sent my notice to the Point to Point crew that I won't be able to help organize the next event. It feels good to prioritize my own creative work. As I said in my letter to them, strike while the iron's hot.

It felt good to step back. Even better has been making contact with two new artists in the neighborhood who want to get involved in Point to Point. I love how the ebb and flow of organizers and participants seems to be working as intended. In our original concept, Point to Point will hopefully become a self-sustaining event. Step up when possible, step back when needed.

The Paradox of the Positive Front

Year one of my creative business was all about projecting a successful image. Call it "fake it 'till you make it", call it the Secret principle...the basic idea is the same: having an optimistic perspective while you bridge the gap between where you start and where you want to end up will lead to a positive outcome. Present yourself as successful, the world sees you as successful, treats you as successful...and hopefully one day your own perception follows suit as a new reality unfolds.

Over the past year I have been asked countless times:

- So, how's it going?
- Have you been busy?
- Are you getting lots of foot traffic?
- How are sales?
- Did you get a lot of people buying for the holidays?

Usually these questions have come from well-intentioned, curious people wanting to be supportive. Regardless of how things were actually going, or how I felt on any given day, the answer would always be the same:

- It's been going really well, thank you. (accompanied by a humble smile)

Sometimes this response felt totally accurate, other times it felt like the ultimate false front. But no matter. I would always answer with the same optimistic vibe of success.

I truly believe that projecting a positive image in year one was critical. Because here's the thing: MANY PEOPLE EXPECTED ME TO ANSWER THAT THINGS WERE NOT GOING WELL. Because it's hard as hell to make it as an artist. Especially when you take on a brick-and-mortar location. In a place with practically no foot traffic. And are only open three days a week. And your pieces are expensive and you are based in a community that's perceived as unable to support nice things. People don't expect you to succeed.

I could see it in their faces. People were ready for me to say that things were not going well. That nobody was coming in my doors. That I wasn't selling anything. That I wasn't enjoying success. That I wouldn't make it through the first year. It was almost funny to observe the surprise in their faces. "Oh really? Ummm, that's great!" And then this strange, subtle transformation as their perception of my business shifted from "just another struggling artist" to "wow, she's making it happen. I want to be part of this."

After a solid year of fake-it-'till-you-make-it, here I am. I had a good first year. I had sales. My guest artists had sales. My business has been a success.

I believe that my positive responses had a direct influence on creating all this. If I'd responded that things were slow, that I wasn't sure how I'd cover my expenses, that I felt discouraged and uncertain, that this was a tough occupation and a tough town to be in...people would have perceived me to be a sinking ship. And who wants to support some debbie downer business that is destined to fail?

But here's the thing: fake-it-'till-you-make-it creates an image of success that leads to actual success...but it can also work behind the scenes to cultivate a rotten sense of fraudulence, insecurity, and insatisfaction within the person faking it. At least that's how it's been for me. Not just here with the jewelry/art stuff, back in Mozambique it was the same thing with our consulting work.

There comes a point when you have to stop fronting and get real. Acknowledge your insecurities and weaknesses and frustrations. Voice your doubts. Truly evaluate how things are going, what is working, what isn't. Start being a little more authentic. If not with everyone who asks you how it's going, at least with yourself. The relentless positivity can quickly become denial if you don't let it fade away at some point.

2014: First Year of the Gallery

In front of the Point Richmond gallery on our first year anniversary party. Photo by Steve Holloway.

Mon dieu, 2014 was quite the year. I loved it, am grateful for it, but damn in put me through the ringer. Here are some of the more notable experiences and reflections on my first year having the gallery in Point Richmond:

• Launching a brick-and-mortar business in an area with no foot traffic is not for the faint of heart. It really builds character to open your doors and then have nobody walk in, sometimes for days. I knew it would be like that, especially in the beginning (Point Richmond has a wee downtown plaza with some commerce, but sustaining a retail space here is hard), and I created my business model to be compatible with zero foot traffic, but still. No matter how many times I reminded myself that I am not a jewelry store, and that my success is not measured by the number of people who come through the door, it was tough to keep a positive perspective. Many a night I would close the gallery and then go cry into Rico's sympathetic ear. I found it disturbingly easy to slip into a "retailer" mentality, focused on being busy, hoping to get slammed with shoppers, feeling pressure to keep longer hours, offer more, do more-more-more. But I am not a traditional retailer, and I don't want to be a traditional retailer. Therefore much of 2014 was about resisting that impulse, and trying to remind myself (and others!) that it is possible to find success through a different model.
• What is that model? A hybrid of creating custom pieces for clients, selling my own limited-edition jewelry designs in the gallery and online, and selling work from select guest artists in the gallery. About half of my business last year was custom work. The other half was gallery sales, of which one-third was from the guest artists I featured. I find it fascinating to have one full year of numbers to look back on, concrete information that will inform next year's activities.
• Speaking of numbers, I am excited to report that my predictions for 2014 were majorly on point. No big surprises in expenses, and I exceeded my revenue goal by 15%. So there may not be people streaming in the door, but hey, something went right. ;)
• Last year brought many intangible successes that don't show up in my numbers. Like Point to Point Richmond, the community event I helped conceptualize and launch over the summer. Together with a crew of fellow artists and small business owners, we encouraged people to rediscover and reinvent Point Richmond one day each month through collaborations, pop-ups, performances, and spontaneous and creative use of our spaces. It was a grand experiment, completely and totally grassroots, that allowed me to connect into a community of peers and meet many new people. Point to Point was not in my business plan, and I never could have imagined dedicating so much energy to community organizing...but I allowed myself to follow my gut, and I can honestly say it was worth it. Not just as a personally fulfilling experience, but as a great way to get people into my space and talk to them about my work (see bullet point #1 about there being no foot traffic..."event-driven" is what we are!).
• In 2014 I showed work by six guest artists in the gallery, often holding opening receptions on Point to Point days. It was great to be able to show a mix of styles and materials and price points, to showcase local art, and to have my creative friends alongside me in this experience. There were some bumpy times, but I am so proud of the professionalism we all showed, the way we found solutions to whatever wasn't working. In 2015 I look forward to showing more work by guest artists, but with a slightly different format to keep things fresh.
• I am so grateful for the help and support I've received over the past year. My family, Rico, my assistant Marie, my studio mates, my guest artists, my teachers, my clients, our neighbors, and our friends near and far. It has not been an easy one, but I am aware I'm not in this alone, and that anytime I need to talk or cry or celebrate, I have great company by my side.
• My favorite comeback of 2014: "What?? You've been here a year? I've never noticed you! You need to advertise more!" "Oh yes, we have been here for a year. We're a hidden gem, just like Point Richmond." Works every time. People like the fact that our neighborhood is undiscovered and under the radar, and I love using that analogy to open their minds about what my business model is all about.
• Low point of 2014: there was a flea infestation in the gallery. It was horrible and required great discretion and took so much longer to get rid of than I ever though possible. It's all gone now, no more fleas, and I'm at the point where it is really funny to look back on. Hilarious how life throws you a really good curve ball every once in a while, just to make sure you remember you can't control it all.
• Speaking of, I downsized my planner. After three years using a gigantic paper calendar with scheduling in 30-minute increments, I'm now down to a 5x7 weekly view planner with space to write one or two things per day. This is a good limit for me. Getting through school and the first year of my business, it was super helpful to have tight planning and a to-do list on every page. But now, I can relax a little. I have to relax a little. If I can't write it in the little space allotted for the day, I probably shouldn't take it on...
• And so goes the first year. There are a lot of takeaways that I didn't list here, but that's okay. This doesn't have to be exhaustive. It's New Year's Eve, and it's time to celebrate. Rico and I are feeling really exhausted and under the weather, and instead of being out at a party we've elected to stay home and chill. My mom said we're getting old. I say we're getting comfortable. There is a fire in the fireplace, cats and blankets on the lap, and White Collar on Netflix. Here's to a quiet end to an unforgettable and intense year.

Glamorizing Poverty or an Innovative Way Out of It?

Check out this article, called "Rio tourists to slum it in style" about a German developer who believes that building a high-end hotel in Vidigal favela is the next big thing for tourism in the Cidade Maravilhosa.

Depending on the day, my mood, my geographic location, the latest news, etc. I can understand - and likely argue in favor of - both side of this type of story.

Be it favela tourism in Rio, visits to Khayelitsha in Cape Town, homestays in empoverished but breathtaking Sapa in the hills of Vietnam, or any other such venture offering an "authentic" experience to those willing to pay, it is hard for me to decide whether I believe the end result is exploitation or a fascinating way to bridge social differences and recognize the value of otherwise marginalized people and communities.

For each altruistic, socially conscious visitor who is truly interested in understanding how others live, I imagine there will be 10 others who are keen on staying in a favela hotel for the Experience - just so they can take the requisite photos of "innocent schoolchildren walking home past another child, only slightly older, holding an AK-47 and keeping watch over a drug sales point" or "visibly destitute but smiling favela resident dancing samba with beer in hand and view of city lights in background" - and return home to impress friends and family with said photos and tales of authenticity and how, despite the occasional brush with gun-wielding drug traffickers (referred to in a very nonchalant manner), they were truly accepted into the Vidigal community during their 4-day visit.

As much as I am annoyed by the "Quest for Authenticity" in tourism (staying in a penthouse in Barra and eating sushi every day is just as *authentic* as playing cards on a stoop in Rocinha, although it's not necessarily *representative* of the way most brasileiros live...), is it really a bad thing? Is it harmful?

Again, back to the questions I can argue either side of, depending on the day.

Thoughts?