Leaving Home

Last week I house sat for Rico while he was in India for business. It was wonderful to spend time with the cats (he has all three of them, which makes me feel like a bad cat mom for "abandoning" my babies but it's the better situation for everyone...except possibly Rico, who still has to deal with Pria waking him up at 5:45am demanding food). Anyhow, it was a relaxing few days of sitting on the couch binge-watching Weeds, eating ice cream, and snuggling with the cats.

It was also quite strange to be back in the place that once was my house, our house. Rico and I continue to be on very good terms with each other (I am truly grateful for our drama-free split) but being back there, in what is now His house, was emotionally difficult. Everything is still so familiar. I know that house intimately, I could navigate it with my eyes closed. I know where the light switches are, how to jiggle the downstairs bathroom door so it opens without sticking, where to find the Lysol and extra toilet paper, how to turn on the tv and the stereo. It is all so comfortable, like slipping into an old skin.

Except certain things are different (and, of course, I am different...the slow metamorphosis into my identity as a single person becoming ever more noticeable). I am clearing out my stuff bit by bit. The contents of drawers emptied, paintings removed, closets vacated. I notice Rico got new drinking glasses and cutting boards. There is "man brand" lotion and soap in the bathroom. And the smell of the house is subtly changed. I can't describe it, really, but suppose what I notice is the absence of myself, of my perfume and sweat and cooking and tears.

The closest thing I have for comparison is when I returned to my mom's house in Albuquerque after spending my junior year abroad in Brazil. The house was nearly exactly the same, but not quite. Home but not home anymore. Familiar but no longer fits. That was also a big moment of transition for me because I had decided to skip my senior year of high school and go straight to college. So it was more than just a re-entry after a year of international living. It marked a major chapter change, the start of a physical move as well as a shifting identity and a breakup of sorts. Much like now.

Being in Rico's house last week led me to process through a lot of emotion surrounding our split. Which is good, because I don't want to find out five or ten years down the line that I didn't adequately feel or deal with all this stuff. But still, not easy. Not easy at all.

Mostly I feel sadness, but not in the regretful "I-wish-I-could-go-back" sort of way. No, sadness as in mourning. Sadness as in acceptance. Sadness as in realizing that two people and an ocean of love are sometimes not enough to "make it work." And a strange, quiet happiness in understanding that despite all of that I am okay. Rico is okay. We are okay.

Groove Back

What have I been up to lately? Oh, you know, finding my fabulousness again.

Sometime around February things began to shift. After many years of not feeling like myself deep down, I was ready to reconnect with ME.

I started painting (something I've wanted to do for-ever), allowing myself the pleasure of creating spontaneous worlds of color. For all the fun of abstract painting, I've also been drawn to the insane technical challenge of representational painting. Still lives and even a portrait. Really what I need to do is practice drawing - learn how to lay a good foundation for the color and volume that come next. I so struggle with lines and perspective. But that challenge is a big part of what keeps me coming back.

I made some ballsy custom jewelry that threw me way outside my comfort zone but also showed me I can be confident in my work. This necklace has 23 repurposed diamonds from my client's mother's wedding band, set in 18k gold in a field of blue enamel. Technically this was a major challenge, but I did it!

I decided it was high time to get the tattoo I'd been thinking about for the last few years, and now have my personal map on my back. It's a mash-up of the places that are/were home: Casa Cali, Maputo, Austin, Albuquerque, Rio, Peci (Italy). Six dots, lots of geography, lots of living.

I also cleaned up my eating and drinking habits and lost 10+ pounds in 3 months. What was the trick? An app called MyFitnessPal where you can log foods and exercise. Well, that and finally dealing with some emotional/personal stuff that I'd been desperately avoiding for the past ten years or so. Ten and ten. Lots of weighty stuff. Ha, ha.

I've been going to Hipline (the dance studio in Oakland I love so much) a lot, as usual. And doing pilates, and running. And I even started swimming at the Plunge (lovely pool by our house) on Tuesdays at 6:15am. I feel so good, I'm on my way to a six-pack, and my thigh-waist proportions are less drastic which means I can wear pants again without feeling like I'm being squeezed to death.

Speaking of, I recently held a snake for the first time (well, the tail end of my friend Emi's ball python) but even so - major phobia overcoming right there! I thought I'd be brave enough to hold the whole snake, even wrap it around my neck, but there was no way that was going to happen. I was pretty proud of getting this far given my history.

It's good to be back.

Angel in the Bay

We had a visit last week from my college best friend Angel and her man João. They live in Houston, he is Portuguese, she is ridícula. :) Angel and I have been friends for 16 years and through thick and thin. I love when she visits because I feel so totally like myself! It was her birthday, and she got engaged, and we all had a great time hanging out.

On Point

Once again I'm reminded that the things I'm good at aren't always the things I want to spend my time doing. Back in Moz, this was the conclusion I came to about writing proposals for development projects. I could write a kick-ass proposal and get projects funded, but I always felt sick and burned out (when doing the work, as well as in general). When you are self-employed, your work affects your person so much.

Now, I'm feeling sick and burned out again. When this happens, it's time for an adjustment. Sometimes it's in the life side, sometimes in the professional realm, more often both.

I've been doing a lot of travel recently - two weeks ago Rico and I went to St. John in the US Virgin Islands for the wedding of my longtime friend Mark (who was also one of our groomsmen, and met his girl when he went traveling after attending our wedding in Rio). I also went to Albuquerque to hang out with my dad for a lighting quick couple of days. Then over the weekend my best friend Angel came to Casa Cali with her man, and we celebrated her birthday and went wine tasting in Sonoma. In all, a solid period of vacation with a couple manic work days tossed in the mix.

It gave me time to think. I managed to figure out what's got to give, and now I have the task of making those changes. Not always fun, but feels so good afterwards.

Over the last year I've been co-organizing a community arts event called Point to Point Richmond. It has been an incredible grassroots experience, and I've met so many of my fellow artists here. I've put a huge amount of volunteer energy into launching Point to Point, and for that I have no regrets. But I'm at a point (ha, ha) where the balance is off, it's taking my focus and my time away from the work my gut is demanding be made. So I am majorly stepping back.

I feel strongly that it's time to be in my studio. I've received many custom requests for jewelry pieces and repurposed heirloom work, and I'd like to be able to say yes to those. I am also wanting to paint more, and do figure drawing, and experiments with enameling. I want to make weird work, wall pieces that I deliberately ruin, and then ruin, and then ruin again and see what's happened. I want to work with the rusted railroad steel I collected here at Ferry Point. Practice my sketching.

When I feel a gut-level pull to the studio that can't be ignored, I know it's not just about the work. It's connected to personal growth, relationships and decisions outside the studio. Diving into the art helps me take the steps I want to in life.

I want to have art dates with my friends. I want lazy weekends where I can sit around and do nothing, but also get laundry done and some prep cooking for the week. I want to train with Hilary for another 10k, and then possibly a 10 mile run next year. I want to hang out with family, and also to travel. Reclaim our yard. Design a churrasqueira with Rico. Take a nap every once in a while.

The exciting thing to me is that I believe I can do these things and also my studio work. Having the gallery open fits in, too, as long as I have some help. But all of this plus major community organizing does not add up. Actually, I guess it over-adds up because the feeling is a whirling, unfocused cloud of pending stuff. Overwhelm for sure. So it's time to take a step back, and deal with all the feelings and fallout that come with that. Hopefully it will be smooth, and if not, at least lead to some interesting art.

Casa Cali Cat Life

This is pretty much my ideal state of being: sound asleep, surrounded by cuddly cats, secure in the fact that Pria's got my back.

Muir Woods

My dad came to visit last week, and one of the highlights was a visit to Muir Woods. In the nearly five years we've lived at Casa Cali, I'd not yet visited the giant redwoods. They sure are huge, but what really impressed me is how crowded Muir Woods is. Think hordes and hordes of people. But even so, it manages to be peaceful. I guess ancient trees trump tourists!

Julho Nervoso

Man, July has been quite the month when it comes to anxiety and nerves. There's been:

* World Cup (enough said).

* Fraud using my business credit card.

* A medical procedure that was pretty straightforward but had me absolutely terrified, shaking and crying the entire time. I have some major phobias surrounding cutting, stitching, and just knowing that someone is "messing with" my body. I am still exhausted from the emotional energy spent at the doctor's office.

* Results from said procedure: basal cell carcinoma. What????? Yep. A dot of skin cancer on my shoulder. Highly treatable, very unlikely to give me future problems, but still. Que susto! If you've spent lots of time in sunny-ass places like New Mexico, Brazil, Mozambique, and California, go get your spots looked at. I was shocked at this diagnosis, especially because I'm young, my skin seemed ok, nothing overly suspicious or strange going on. Just a routine skin check, and boy am I glad I went!!

On a much more pleasant note, Rico and I had our 6 year wedding anniversary at the beginning of the month. We went to the Fogo do Chão churrascaria at Santana Row in San Jose. It was pretty delicious, but not quite up to par with the Fogo in São Paulo. Still, it was a relaxing getaway and allowed me to baby my stitches.

Hard to believe it's been 6 years already...

Que Pasa, Calabaza?

It's been a whirlwind month since we arrived back from Portugal. Lots of community organizing, work at the gallery, custom orders, and moments of observation and relaxation. Here is a visual record of how I've been spending my days:

Living and working in Point Richmond, there are always opportunities for a moment. Cool cars, old houses, and a neighborhood full of friendly characters. I try to walk between our house, the studio, and the gallery as much as possible. It's about 15 minutes between any of them, the ideal distance for a meander, a pause, a reset on my perspective.

This is a house where a hoarder lived for many years. It used to be full of giant nutcrackers in the windows. At a certain point it was condemned by the city. Now it's been sold, cleaned out, and is undergoing a renovation following what seemed to be a continuous, 3-week garage sale.

Speaking of chaos (albeit the beautiful, tangled, physical kind), I am so obsessed with Martin Rickert's ceramic sculptures. We have three of them in the gallery right now and I feel like they mirror my brain state much of the time. Lots of connections, a lot going on, trying to figure out how everything links together.

Martin also does stone carving. He apprenticed in Germany in the traditional guild system and is a serious craftsman. He lives and works here in Point Richmond, and is someone we're enjoying getting to know.

I've been working on a custom headdress for a client that she will wear on her 30th birthday at a beach party in Jamaica. The inspiration is a runway piece done for Givenchy. We will put a unique twist on the design by using my client's grandmother's clip-on earrings as the focal sparkly points in the headdress. I'm super excited to see this come together.

I'm also working on a big cocktail ring that has an oval blue topaz flanked by round green tourmalines. I'm creating custom basket settings for the stones, which has been an exercise in precision and geometry. Hopefully this piece will be done this weekend.

Amid all this custom work, there's been some priceless (in)action from Gato Preto Pria:

Excitingly, people from CCA alumni and career development got in touch and did a field trip to the gallery. I'm super pleased that I got on their radar, because not only am I an alum, there is the work of three other CCA graduates in the gallery right now, plus two more CCA guest artists lined up to do shows over the summer. It's a CCA party! Plus Martin!

 It's been fun to feel the gallery come into its own. The word is getting out, and increasingly it feels "real". Nothing like a sign out front to remind me that yes, this is happening. :)

The gallery participated once again in Point to Point, the pop-up community event I've been helping organize and facilitate. I offered an interactive metals stamping booth (which was a major hit) plus a little world cup and samba action (not so much of a hit, but ya gotta try, right?).

Not only did we stamp up a storm, I managed to re-home my grandfather's sparkly red accordion that has been sitting at the bottom of my coat closet for about 10 years.

 I'd left the accordion on the gallery stoop, hoping to find someone interested in playing it that could become its new owner. Lo and behold, that happened. A gentleman picked it up, rocked out, and accepted the gifted instrument. It was a magical moment.

The new accordion owner jumped into some jam sessions that were happening around the downtown area for Point to Point. It was a treat to watch!

And of course there was the solstice. A beautiful, calm, light-washed evening. It's been a good month. :)

Solstice Feast with Friends

Last week Rico and I were invited to a Midsummer's celebration at the house of new friends of ours here in Point Richmond. Lars is a labyrinth maker (what a cool profession, right?) and community organizer who I've been working closely with on Point to Point Richmond. Lars has Swedish heritage, and together with his fiancee Lissette, prepared an amazing solstice meal for us, complete with traditional foods (seed bread, smoked trout, pickles, salmon), seasonal decorations, and floral crowns. It was a great night, and it's exciting to have friends our age here in town!

Africa to the Bay

I have now lived at Casa Cali for as long as I lived in Mozambique. Four-and-a-half years. Combining both places, nearly a decade.

I think about the fact that I moved to Chimoio when I was 23 and it blows my mind. So ambitious and precocious and confident and arrogant. So open to radical change. So unfazed by geography.

Between then and now I got married, created a lucrative freelance career for myself, left said career, became a homeowner, went to art school, became a metalsmith, learned how to parallel park, set up a collaborative studio space, and now - most recently - with lots of help from lots of people, opened the showroom.

I also felt my wanderlust and expat identity transform into something more grounded, content to stay in one place and invest in that life as a solid base from which to explore.

In many ways, the process of making art feels like living abroad. It can be frustrating and lonely and full of fear. It is continually humbling. There are lots of tears. And yet it is also enlightening, inspiring, and an unfailing way to get to know myself better.

These days life is grand and it is also very hard. All of the aspects of being a self-employed artist, an entrepreneur, a collaborator, a mentor, a boss that I knew would be a challenge have been just that. But in a good way. In a growing way. In a way that makes me remember every day that it's the cumulative and sustained efforts that make a difference. That Rome wasn't built in a day. That it's okay for things to be continually in flux.

The reality of my latest leap is still sinking in. I write this from the most calming and beautiful space imaginable, in a community that I am wholly part of. My fledgling business is flourishing. Rico is here helping me close for the day. We will likely go next door to the wine bar and have a glass of something delicious before going home. Then I will cook, we will relax with the cats, and tomorrow I have the chance to do it all again.

Origins and Routes is here!

Holiday Food, NM Style

Strangely I think this will be delicious. My hands just startedd grabbing at spices.

Butternut squash with sea salt, brown sugar, New Mexico red chile powder, cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. And I think I'll glaze it with tangerine juice as it roasts.

Xmas eve dinner we will have posole and tortillas at my mom's, and I am making flan/pudim de leite.

Holiday food for a Burquena for sure.

Still Life with Blackwood Sculpture and Grapefruit

Looking Back: Two Years and Four Months after Mozambique

Two weeks ago I was on the phone with my best group of girls from Mozambique. It's hard for us to find a time to chat nowadays, not so much due our busy schedules but because of the ridiculous time differences between the places we now call home.

K. is in Honiara (Solomon Islands), Z. is in Melbourne, H. is in Bogotá, J. is in London and I am here in California. There is only one special time that will work for all of us, and we manage to make it happen about once a quarter. We're incredibly scattered about the world and I haven't seen any of my girls in nearly 2.5 years, but we have one of those magic friendships where we gossip and philosophize and plan our lives as if we were simply having our weekend catch-up, poolside at Hotel Cardoso or possibly Clube Naval with a gin and tonic in hand.

(On a related note, check out this snarky gem of expat writing if you haven't already.)

In my last chat with the girls, the topic turned to whether or not we miss Mozambique. The answer, it seems, is totally dependent on where we all ended up post-Maputo. I have a similar perspective to Z. in that we are both very content with our new homes, our new occupations, our new lives. We are both putting down some solid roots in cosmopolitan cities with good weather, in which we have family and where our partners are content. Neither of us really misses Mozambique, in the sense that it was good while it lasted but we are glad to have moved on. Of course we feel moments of nostalgia and saudades. But in general we wouldn't want to go back, perhaps not even for a visit.

K., on the other hand, really misses Mozambique. Nothing like the perspective of living on a small, quiet island in the middle of the South Pacific to make Maputo seem like the most fun, fantastic, fast-paced and flavorful city ever invented for expats. K. and her husband miss the restaurants, the international crowd, the easy access to nearly everything, the endless opportunities for weekend trips, the (relatively) good connections to major cities on other continents, the solid group of friends... I'm not sure if they could go back if they had a chance, but Maputo understandably has become a grass-is-greener sort of place for them.

H. also misses Moz quite a bit and has already traveled back once to spend the holidays. She still has very close friends there, the kind that will likely never move away, so it's like a homecoming of sorts in that she is greeted with familiar faces and can easily slip back into the life she'd established there. Or so I imagine.

J. is somewhere in the middle I suppose, enjoying her life back in the UK and the excitement of a post-grad-school job search, but also ever-open to the possibility of traveling again. I'd guess that given the chance she'd travel back to Mozambique, but that it's perhaps not at the top of her priority destination list.

What's strange for me is that Mozambique had such a huge impact on me and yet I don't think I'd return if given the chance. I prefer it as a memory, preserved in time, protected from the inevitable disappointment and depression that I would feel if we ever went back. I don't really know how to explain this, especially because there *are* still people there I'd love to see again. Zeca and his family, for sure. The handful of friends in Maputo who call the city their permanent home. Hugh Marlboro. The guys from the local crafts council. Dona Lídia.

I suppose it's like returning to your hometown after many, many years away (Maputo isn't my hometown but it's the place where I spent the most time of my adult life - nearly five years). Everything has changed, and that is depressing. Nothing has changed, and that is depressing, too. People have left, and that makes you long for the good old days when you all used to hang out. People have stayed, and that makes you sad, too.

More than anything, a trip back to Mozambique would make me recall in vivid color the person I was back then. Not that I was a bad person or anything, but I was a *different* person. More immature. More insecure. More arrogant. More idealistic. Still figuring out an awful lot about who I am... There were good times - amazing times, for sure! - but I have a general bittersweet taste when I think back about the Moz years.

Rico and I often reminisce about how unhappy I was there. I know I cried often, that I had stress-induced allergy attacks every week, that I grew to hate the "development" work that had at one point been so inspiring, that I became so cynical I'd force myself to keep my mouth shut when meeting new people because I didn't want to come off as a total asshole and tell them their water sanitation project was doomed to fail.

I remember these things but they often seem like false recollections, like I'm telling the story of how someone else felt, not how I felt. It was bad but I don't remember the details. It was good, but I also don't remember a lot of the details.

For me, our time in Mozambique was characterized by an awful lot of gray areas. Swinging emotions. Sick feelings about what it means to be white and/or foreign and/or rich in a country where so many are born into situations of need. Questions about "development" and what motivates us to "help" others. Questions about who my local friends were and who their families were, realizing that all of that corruption and willingness to turn a blind eye comes from somewhere...Exciting, fun times in the midst of all that gray. Meeting incredible, smart, genuinely kind people from Mozambique and all the corners of the globe. Feeling humble. Feeling like a know-it-all. Living the jet-setting life. Longing for home.

I guess it's only fitting that my feelings post-Moz continue equally gray.

Cats, Champagne, Family, and Friends

In a nutshell, these are my wishes for 2012. May it be a year full of loved ones, furry ones, and fun times.

Oh, and I resolve to run a half marathon. :) May the running trend continue strong.

Casa Cali View, Summer's Day and Winter's Night, 2011