The Quiet Moments

I a home in California after nearly a month traveling. My itinerary included New Mexico (Valencia County and Albuquerque), Texas (Houston and Austin), and Mexico (Playa del Carmen and Tulum). The trip was filled with moments of excitement and energy, but also lots of quiet time. I so appreciate my solo reflective time while on the road. It's what gives me perspective on my life "at home" and allows me to reconnect with my internal North. Here are some visual captures of some of those contemplative moments:

While on the road I turned 35. This blazing sunset was taken on the eve of my last day being 34. I was in the parking lot of Bodyshock Fitness, a gym in Los Lunas I discovered on this trip that was my salvation while in New Mexico. After a particularly hard workout, I was rewarded with this fiery sky. I thought about the past year and all the change it has brought for me, the wild ride my heart and body have endured, and what I want from the next cycle - be it a day, a year, or a decade.

This snapshot was taken at sunrise on my 35th birthday, taken from the ditch road that runs behind my dad's house. I was feeling very proud of myself, as I'd managed to go to a 5:30am body combat class to start my day off right, an intense bout of movement before getting on a plane and heading to Houston later that day. I could hear the soft sound of water flowing through the irrigation ditch some doves cooing in the distance. I kept my ears and eyes alert for signs of sandhill cranes (they migrate to New Mexico every fall, often arriving on the day of my birthday) but didn't hear/see any although I knew they were out there somewhere.

As part of the Texas leg of my trip, I decided to drive to Austin for a night and experience the last place I called home prior to moving to Mozambique. I haven't been back since I left in 2005. I decided to visit the Umlauf Sculpture Garden and journal for a bit amid the greenery and bronze figures. It was hot and humid, but the scenery was so perfect for reflection that I found a bench in the shade and wrote for about an hour, trying to ignore the sweat dripping down my legs. What a strange experience to revisit Austin after 11.5 years. So much has happened in that time, yet in many ways it feels I'm back in the same psychological place I was in when I left Texas and headed to Africa. The end of one major chapter and the start of another, tumultuous at times but full of promise and adventure.

In the Mexico leg of my trip, I enjoyed reflective time while swimming in cenotes (freshwater swimming holes that dot the Yucatan Peninsula and were considered sacred by the Mayans). This one pictured here is Cenote Azul. The water was clear and refreshing, and the jungle scenery all around made it feel like the garden of Eden. Swimming here felt like hitting the reset button on my life, which may be a bit dramatic but it really did seem that way in the moment.

Finally here is a moment from the women's wellness retreat that brought me to Tulum. We did a clay treatment and then went into the ocean to wash it off. I am the person on the far right. This was the start to me swimming far out into the water, what I wrote about in my previous post. I felt very calm here, at ease with myself and my surroundings.

My hope is that I can carry these feelings from my trip into my California life, especially as I gear up for the busy holiday season with my jewelry work, and continue to navigate the up's and down's of my personal life transition. Starting my day today with blogging was a good way to reconnect and reflect, for sure.

Finding Sri Prem Baba

Yesterday on social media I came across a post by my acquaintance Carolina Bergier that really resonated with me (interesting aside: I met Carol because she is part of Casa Soul, the organization that made Casa Rosa its headquarters when we sold the place several years ago). Anyhow, she had a quote by someone called Sri Prem Baba that majorly hit home. Here it is in Portuguese, as I originally saw it:

"Quanto mais freneticamente você busca por algo e mais esse algo parece fugir de você, maior é o seu não inconsciente para isso que conscientemente você deseja; e mais é a sua inabilidade para lidar com esse não. Ao tomar consciência desse não, você inicia o processo de compreensão e transformação dessa dificuldade. Então, talvez você descubra que isso que você quer não é exatamente o que você precisa; talvez seja somente um capricho do seu ego; uma obstinação para satisfazer uma vaidade."

Here's a translation on the fly:

"The more frantically you search for something and the more it seems to escape you, greater is your unconscious 'no' to this thing that you consciously desire; and greater is your inability to deal with this 'no'. By becoming conscious of this 'no', you begin the process of understanding and transforming this difficulty. Then, perhaps you discover that what you want isn't exactly what you need; perhaps it is just a whim of your ego; an obstinacy to satisfy vanity." 

Boom. That so incredibly incredibly resonates right now. Ufff.

After a bit of research this morning, I've learned more about Sri Prem Baba, the Brazilian-born spiritual master and humanitarian leader. Sometimes you find exactly what you need at the precise moment you most need it. This is how it felt to come across Sri Prem Baba in general, and in particular these words.

Where I Started and Where I am Now

Getting ready to cross the bridge-less Rio Lucite in Manica Province, Mozambique. 2005.

I started this blog in 2005 while living in Austin, Texas. I was about to move to Mozambique to work as a freelance consultant with some friends I'd met while in business school in Brazil. (There's a lot of geography in my life story!)

Initially my blog was a way for me to keep in touch with family in friends while in Africa, but it soon became much more. I met hundreds of people through my writing, many of whom were also moving to Mozambique and looking for support, many of whom became friends.

Over the years I chronicled my work in international development, my growing passion for making jewelry, my marriage in 2008, our move to California in late 2009, my decision to apply to art school and change careers, my experience starting my own business, and now the most recent chapter: my life as a single person, with many exciting unknowns, lots of travel, and a heart full of love to share with the world.

Contemplating what's next while on the ferry from Isla Mujeres to Cancún, Mexico. 2016.

On Movement

A quick poem I wrote in a parking lot after class at Hipline, about a month ago:

Dancing feels like freedom,

I can move any way I want.

My decisions,

my body.

Feeling grounded for the first time in ages.

In leaving I am growing roots,

solid,

to secure my ankles and support my feet

and allow my heart to explore from this base.

Keep moving,

clear the mind.

Don't ignore the body's message.

There is no need to fear the outcome

when following the gut-compass.

Spring sunset as seen from my studio in Point Richmond, with Mt. Tamalpais in the background.

On the Attacks

Yesterday, waking to the news of the attacks on the Brussels airport and metro system, I felt outrage and despair at the indiscriminate killing of innocent people. So wrong and horrible and tragic. I thought of my childhood friend Vincent who is from Belgium, currently living in Nairobi, with a girlfriend who works in the UN system. My friends group from Mozambique came to mind, so many of whom live and work in the EU. I thought back to the Paris attacks, to San Bernardino, Boston, Madrid, London, 9/11.

When attacks feel close to home (or are in our backyards) we take notice. We are put on edge, we feel fear, we change our Facebook profiles to be flags in solidarity, we check in as 'safe' but often feel anything but. The message seems to be that the terrorists are always ready, always a step ahead, will always catch us by surprise.

I know there have been attacks just this past week in the Ivory Coast and in Turkey. Around the time of the Paris attacks there was also Lebanon and Iraq. And of course the countless other bombings that happen throughout the Middle East and Africa - suicide and otherwise - not to mention the drones and operations and refugee crisis and political chess game.

And yet those form a blur in my mind, even though as a global citizen deeply concerned about our world, I don't want them to. I see the news and lament about how terrible it is, and then go on about my day. It's easy to pretend it's not happening when it's far away. Easy to believe it's about "those people" and maintain the illusion that we are not connected, involved, responsible.

I think of my friend Dena who is Assyrian-Canadian and the only person in my midst who is consistently vocal about how hypocritical our Western position is. I'm not talking the obligatory re-post of some article that says "There's shit happening in these other places, too! Solidarity with ___________________ (fill in the blank to choose location we likely can't find on the map yet are financing weapons for and bombing on the regular)." No, my friend Dena actually goes there and criticizes from a human standpoint, showing mothers holding dead children and other un-ignorable losses of innocent life. She has opened my eyes to what happens in "those places" (and in Iraq in particular, because that's where her family is from). It feels real, personal, connected. So different from what you read in the news.

We need more of these connections and real conversations. How diverse are our circles? Do you know anybody from Iraq or Syria or Yemen or Palestine? Do you know any locals or expats living in the Middle East or Africa? Have you ever traveled to these places? Do you know anybody in the military who has served in these places? Do you know anybody who is Muslim? Do you know any refugees? Do you know anybody who is young and unemployed? Do you know anyone in politics? Do you know anybody who has been directly impacted by an attack?

Useful questions for home issues, too:

Do you know anybody who supports Trump? Do you know anybody in Flint, Michigan? Do you know anybody who depends on public assistance to survive? Do you know any billionaires?  Do you know anyone who is homeless? Do you know anyone who has been incarcerated? Do you know any recent immigrants?  Do you know anyone who loves their guns? Do you know anyone who has witnessed a mass shooting? Do you know anyone who has been impacted by police violence? Do you know any police officers? Are you friends with anyone of a different race than your own? Do you know anyone who has suffered racism?

The basic idea being: Do you know what it's like to walk in another's shoes? How do those realities shape our political sphere? Who has power and a voice, and who does not? Do we have any common ground at all in our differences or are we destined to fight it out tooth and nail, across an ever-widening chasm?

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.

Yes to This, No to That

This year I'm making some intentional shifts in where my yes's and no's are. Some of this feels terrifying, some of it feels like a relief, some feels like adventure waiting to unfold.

SAYING YES TO TRAVEL means saying NO to:

- a geographically fixed workspace

- a consistent open-to-the-public schedule at the gallery 

- being able to attend all of the local events that interest me

- other tempting ways of using my time and money

SAYING YES TO THE WORK I WANT TO MAKE means saying NO to:

- certain requests for custom work or repairs

- certain social activities because I need lots of time in the studio

- an easily defined image/style (which causes me stress because I like to be cohesive, and the work I want to make feels pretty random right now)

SAYING YES TO MY PHYSICAL HEALTH means saying NO to:

- eating too much sugar

- smoking too much weed

- weighing myself obsessively

SAYING YES TO MY EMOTIONAL HEALTH means saying NO to:

- behavior patterns that cause me pain

- toxic relationships

- the stigma of being in therapy

SAYING YES TO THE SPACE I NEED means saying NO to:

- a shared studio space

- employing an assistant

- a boundary-less existence with the family business

SAYING YES TO MY CREATIVE PRACTICE means saying NO to:

- having my phone in the studio

- the need to make "good" work

- fear of being vulnerable

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.

Creative Business: What Makes Me (Un)Happy

Lately I've been feeling very unhappy about being a jeweler and having the gallery. These growing pains are part of the ride, but it's time for a major adjustment when the thing I love becomes the thing I most want to avoid. Because, you know, I already burned out on one career (see: the archives of this blog between 2006 and 2009) and I'd prefer that not happen again.

The things that make me unhappy are pretty easy to identify:

- Allowing my business side to take over at the expense of my artist side. Focusing too much on numbers and sales and foot traffic, and very especially measuring my success by those metrics.

- Acting like a retail jewelry store. This is not what I want to do, but it is the easiest model to follow and the one that people most readily understand. And the desire to have a flourishing business where others understand what I'm doing, support it, approve of it...I won't lie. It's there.

- Making jewelry that I think will sell, not the pieces my gut/soul/whatever leads me to create. Production work is a tempting mistress. Again, it's what others most easily "get". It's safe and expected/accepted. It's the most lucrative strategy, at least in the short term. But it is the wrong path for me, and that I do know in my gut. Focusing on production work (think wearable, fashionable jewelry collections that are made in multiples) is the fast track to my business mind taking over.

- Living too much in the future. Planning excessively. Scheduling every free moment. Maxing out my productivity.

- Creating a public persona where I don't allow myself to be real, vulnerable, messy, or uncertain. Feeling like I always have to front positivity and be "on" in order to be successful. Here I feel free to tell it like it is. On my www.aliamaro.com blog and newsletter and in the gallery, I don't. There is a major filter in place. I recognize the importance of privacy, of keeping some semblance of separation between business and personal life...but it bothers me that I don't feel okay sharing my authentic self in the spaces where I share my work.

- Feeling overly obligated to others. Man this is a big one. I want to share my opportunities with my fellow artists, and I want to contribute to my community...but there needs to be balance so I'm not consumed up in the process.

So there's the unhappy list, in a nutshell. Now for what makes me happy (it's a much less philosophical list):

- Doing the painting exercise I invented where I color mix for 5 minutes, then apply paint to the canvas for 5 minutes, let dry, and repeat. These loose, colorful, free paintings are my favorite thing right now in terms of studio work.

- Taking photos of textures, patterns, and architecture. Taking portraits.

- Creating compositions with objects. Finding edges that match and angles that meet. Finding balance within asymmetry.

- Playing with color. Putting together unexpected palettes. Organize things according to gradients.

- Doing processes that involve the unknown. Like enameling, where you have no idea what the colors will look like before you apply heat. Or using my jeweler's saw to slice into those dried acrylic paint balls I like so much, revealing a hidden interior.

- Rendering (drawing) jewelry. I think I like it because it's so damn hard and the results are so gratifying. Nothing like a challenge.

- Being a stylist: putting together a great outfit, nailing proportion, mixing patterns, accessorizing.

- Creating something for another person that is incredibly meaningful to them.

- Doing nothing. Hanging out with cats. Being in the sun. Dancing.

- Getting away. Traveling. Exploring. Wandering.

I am going to pin this to my studio wall and make it a priority to look at it, reflect on it, allow myself to say YES to things on the happy list and STOP doing the things on the unhappy list without guilt or anxiety or insecurity. I'm not sure what the result will look like, in terms of what I'll create or where it will lead. And that's part of the exercise.  

Birthdays and Art Milestones

Two of the people I love the very very very most in this world had birthdays in the last few days. We've enjoyed celebrating, keeping it low key.

All Rico wanted for his birthday was a lap full of cats. Not really, but that's what he is stuck with!

I love this photo of my mom that I took in Les Baux this summer when we went to France.

Speaking of milestones, my senior show went up one year ago today. When I stop to think about all that has happened, I feel profoundly overwhelmed. Grateful, excited, tired, bittersweet, hopeful, sad. What a ride.

One thing that makes me very happy is that I continue to make work in the vein of my senior show (Origins & Routes). Working with repurposed heirlooms, collectibles, and found objects is what I feel most strongly expresses my voice. I'll be showing new work this week...fitting timing.

On Becoming Dependent

I start school in less than a week and have been valiantly trying to make these last few days really feel like vacation. In part, I've succeeded. I've slept in, gone running along the water's edge, had bbq's in the backyard with Rico, suntanned, drank beer, read the entire September edition of Vogue, and watched plenty of trash on tv.

However, in between the sun and exercise and celebrity gossip, I've also been working exceptionally hard. I've been preparing tons of new jewelry for a trunk show at a local boutique, and am trying to get my online inventory up in preparation for the holidays. I also did a record number of translations in August and, despite having sworn to myself that I'd take a vacation, just accepted two new assignments yesterday.

Even though Rico has a stable income these days, it's really hard for me to snap out of "freelancer mode". When you are a self-employed consultant, you never know when your next job will appear, or when your clients will get around to paying you for assignments you've already completed. It's a cash flow nightmare, and Rico and I became very good at dealing with the unpredictability. The key? Accept (nearly) every job that comes your way, even if it means you are triple-booked and working 90 hours a week. You never know, you may have to rely on that income for the next four months.

And thus, even though my husband now gets a regular paycheck that covers our living expenses, I still feel compelled to take on work even though I'm supposed to be on vacation or am super busy with school. Part of it is residual consultant mindset, but part is also a matter of pride. For the first time in my life (well, for the first time since I started college and was weaned off the parental financial teat) I am dependent on another person to pay my bills, put me through school, buy my clothes, cover the mortgage, pay for trips and entertainment, etc.

When Rico and I were in the throes of financial uncertainty back in Mozambique - in the good old days when we were just starting to work as consultants, trying to establish a reputation for ourselves, living off $800 a month - I always thought that having someone else take care of your cash flow worries must be the best thing in the world. Certainly, I am blessed that Rico has a great job, and that our situation allows me the luxury of going to art school and following my dream of being a full-time jewelry artist. However, it's been surprisingly difficult for me to accept that I am now financially dependent on Rico and - to make matters worse - not only am I not bringing in a big income, I'm also running up expenses right and left thanks to the astronomical tuition at CCA.

I don't think I ever realized how much of my identity was caught up in being a breadwinner, being financially INdependent, earning a salary that somehow validated my worth as a professional and as a person. It's been hard to admit, and even harder to let go. Even though I'm happier than I've ever been, and wouldn't want to go back to consulting unless truly necessary, part of me still feels like a "failure" because I'm not bringing in an income.

It's a very strange feeling because intellectually, I know this is ridiculous. That my happiness and well-being are worth much more than any silly salary I walked away from. I feel that $100 earned creating and selling a piece of jewelry is much, much sweeter than $10,000 earned doing some bullshit consulting assignment. However, there is part of me - a stubborn, superficial, distorted-feminist part - that feels ashamed to be dependent on someone else.

Rico has been super understanding of my internal struggle, and keeps trying to get the message through my thick head that his salary is OUR money. He reminds me of the times in our past - when he was studying, or sorting out the logistics of our wedding, or taking care of the bureaucracy of buying our house - when his income was zilch and I was bringing in the big bucks. He asks whether I thought about the money I earned during those periods as our money. Of course it was OUR money. "But that was different," I protest. Rico will then look at me with a raised eyebrow and as me how, exactly, it was different. Of course I have no good answer, and we laugh together at my stubbornness.

With each day that passes, it becomes a little easier to accept that I am lucky enough to be in this situation, that I am deserving of the support of my family and that there is no shame in giving up my income in order to pursue my dream. Now if I could only have the gumption to turn away the next translating assignment...

Riots in Maputo

"Six people, including two children, are reported to have been killed during riots in Mozambique's capital, Maputo, over rising food and fuel prices."

Apparently the local population, tired of increases in the price of bread, petrol, water and electricity, took to the streets in a protest that was organized primarily by cell phone. Unfortunately violence erupted, and people who I've spoken with in Maputo today say the situation is still quite chaotic. There are reports of tires burning in the streets, cars being stoned and vandalized, barricades blocking the circulation of vehicles, and even reports of the police firing live rounds into crowds (although supposedly the police only use rubber bullets). Most people are just staying home, hunkering down until the violence draws to an end.

The news today gave me flashbacks to the riots of 2008, which I experienced first-hand and wrote about extensively here and here.

The main problem, as I see it, is that there is no real solution in sight. Prices will continue to increase, salaries will continue to be miserably low, and the root causes of the social and economic inequalities in Mozambique will persist. While I don't condone the violence, I can definitely see how the poor reach a breaking point when their lives are so unimaginably hard, and yet they constantly witness others (i.e. the fat cats associated with the Government and those who thrive on corrupt business practices) driving their luxury cars, living in their 15-room mansions, and acting like they rule the world. Something fundamental has got to give...until then, expect more headlines like today's coming out of Mozambique.

Callused Fingers, Lack of Sleep and an Undeniable Urge to Tell People to Take a Shower

Also known as my first week of art school.

The callused fingers and lack of sleep I was anticipating. Pretty much comes with the territory when you are a metals major and have 8am classes.

What *has* been a surprise is how freaking DIRTY some of my classmates look. The worst part? With a few exceptions, most of these kids appear to be going for this look deliberately. It's all part of the hipster façade, I suppose, but the stained California Raisins sweatshirt plus filthy neon 80's-style sneakers plus holey leggings plus a carefully tilted, grease-stained trucker hat atop a femullet* is just too much in my book.

Then again, my book is ancient in young-person terms and I am admittedly out of touch with many of the current fashion trends, bands, superfoods and technology.

So...enough about fashion or the lack thereof. Additional impressions from my first week at school:

- Tuition is insanely expensive, but I really feel I'm getting value for my money. Teachers seem excellent, class sizes are small (no more than 20 students in any of my classes), studios are well-equipped, there are tons of on-campus resources for students, and the level of performance expected from students is quite high.

- Speaking of performance, school is turning out to be much more work than I'd anticipated. For each hour I'm in a studio class, I spend one hour outside class working on homework or projects. This is completely normal. Thankfully I am good at time management, otherwise I think I'd be on the brink of an anxiety attack right now.

- Aside from wanting to give some of them a good scrubbing, most of my fellow students seem very nice. There is a good mix of ages (I'm not the oldest, thankfully), backgrounds, nationalities, and prior artistic experience. Everyone seems decently motivated to participte in class and excel at our assignments. There is no stigma associated with striving to do well, as can be the case in other academic environments. Nobody is labeled a nerd, and the overachievers simply win the admiration of the rest of the class when they turn in exquisitely made pieces.

- I've learned a lot in one week. I learned to solder (4 different ways!), learned to saw metal, learned to use a gigantic torch with an oxygen hose attached, learned how to put a rice paper skin on a wire structure, and learned how to do contour drawings.

- Even in art school, teachers can make or break a class. I was very apprehensive about taking Drawing I because I have no formal experience, but it's turned out to be one of my favorite classes. The teacher is excellent - she's funny, encouraging and inspiring. She sent my anxiety packing the first day, and I'm quite proud of what I've accomplished in class thus far.

- The downsides, other than the super expensive tuition: lots of expensive supplies to purchase for each class; tons of things to lug around every day (drawing easel, tool box, sketch books, etc.) and no locker access for freshmen from what I've understood; no real lounge on campus, although we are near tons of shops and restaurants; very few drinking fountains (I hate buying water) and cold classrooms. In all, no serious complaints, especially given all the positive things the school has to offer.

I'll check in again around midterms to see what, if anything, has changed about my impressions. The bottom line? I'm really happy I decided to go to art school and become a full-time jeweler.

* The femullet is a term coined in honor of this girl at school who has deliberately cut her hair short on the crown, but rocks a forehead full of curly bangs and a swath of long, greasy hair down her back. She obviously thinks this is a great look, because mullets don't just happen, especially to women. I am practicing restraint not to use my shop scissors to give her an unsolicited trim while we work on our wire sculptures.

Drowning Dream

The other night I dreamt I was swimming in a shallow river. Suddenly, the waters receded as if before a tsunami. Somebody yelled that a flash flood was coming. I felt the current quicken, and the volume of water in the river swelled. Struggling to hold onto the dirt bank, I realized that I didn't have the strength to hoist myself out of the river. I knew that I would soon be swept away, that drowning was inevitable. "So this is it," I thought, and tried to come to terms with my fate.

I woke up before I actually died, but I knew without a doubt it was coming in my dream.

Curious, I Googled the meaning of drowning, and came up with the following:

To dream that you are drowning, signifies that you are overwhelmed by emotions or repressed issues that is coming back to haunt you. You may be proceeding too quickly in trying to discover your unconscious thoughts and therefore must proceed more cautiously and slowly. If you drown to death, then is refers to an emotional rebirth. If your survive the drowning, then a waking relationship or situation will ultimately survive the turmoil.

I also found this:

MENU : Dream Dictionary : Articles : Dream Book : Techniques and tips
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DROWNING : Drowning can suggest that you are overcome by an issue. It symbolises a sense of powerlessness and often a lack of control. So look for issues which are dogging your mind that leave you with that sense of powerlessness.

QUESTIONS to help you make associations(pick the one that makes most sense to you)
- Did you feel overwhelmed on the day before the dream?
- Have you been depressed recently?
- Is there some skills that you are really struggling to master recently?
- Is there some issue that you have no control over?

KEY WORDS : overwhelmed, depressed, unable to cope, lacking ability, lacking control, helping calm someone down(write down some quotes that capture your key feelings on issues that have been dominating your mind. Then see if any of these words could appear in those quotes)

KEY PHRASES(Pick a quote which captures your feelings right now. Think especially of the day before the dream) :
- "I was unable to cope"
- "What if I get totally overwhelmed?"
- "I cannot do it - I simply lack the ability"
- "I have absolutely no control over it"
- "I have not mastered this new skill"
- "I have been depressed recently"
- "I want to help because he is clearly in difficulty but... "

Memorias

Yesterday, on the plane somewhere between Miami and Rio, not knowing what time it was or even if it was day or night outside the plastic window shade, I drifted into the dreamlike state just before actual sleep where my writer's mind runs wild. I composed every latent blog entry about the last three weeks, word for word, entire sentences and even paragraphs forming effortlessly, my tongue tracing soft syllables on the backsides of my teeth.

If I'd had a notebook in hand, perhaps I could have recorded those complete bursts of thought for later publication, but any writing implements were buried deep in the backpack on which my feed rested, wedged under the seat in front of me. I sighed, drifting closer to true sleep.

This happens to me often, this effortless writing stage just before my brain makes the switch to unconsciousness. In these quiet moments, free of the filters of waking life, I am able to find words, combinations of words, that express what I never quite seem able to capture on the blog screen, in the e-mail to an old friend, even in the blank pages of my neglected journal.

My dreamstate writing is flowing and alive while it lasts, then gone just as quickly once the amnesia of sleep takes over. In the morning, I am left with the blurred impressions of moments too perfect to have existed in waking life, much like one remembers an "I love you" whispered prior to surgery by a friend who has never before expressed such a sentiment, a sweet first kiss in the midst of too many glasses of wine, or the relief of a cool towel held by a caring hand that wipes away fever in the middle of the night.

What Lies Ahead

For some time now I have sensed that it is coming. It is just far enough away that I can't make out the details, yet close enough that my intuition is buzzing and the signs are becoming more frequent, less possible to ignore.

Change is waiting around the corner for me. Big change. New-life-chapter type of change.

On the surface, this may seem apparent. I have wedding plans for July 2008. Rico and I will soon be living together again in Maputo after multiple months of geographic separation. I am about to sign a 2-year contract to formalize my job at the banana empire.

Yet I sense in my bones that none of these already-anticipated life events are the big change I am intuiting. There is something else out there, something so powerful that the small signs I am already picking up on leave me dizzy and feeling as if I'm in a fog. Quite literally. Usually my path forward is quite clear. Right now, I can't even tell up from down.

Part of me is afraid to acknowledge what my intuition is screaming out. I am scared that this change will be painful, that it will rock my increasingly comfortable life and make me feel as if the floor has been pulled out from under my feet. Yet I am afraid that if I ignore the signs of this looming change, pretend that I don't feel something is ahead in my path, that the choice to remain stagnant will be even more painful.

Right now I feel like those animals that are able to sense an earthquake before it arrives. I know something significant and inevitable is in my future, but I don't know if the shaking ground will turn up a wealth of treasures or a pit of snakes.

Hell, I don't even know if the change is the metaphorical equivalent of an earthquake. For all I know I could be on the brink of winning the lottery.

Thanksgiving Thanks

I'm going for a record 3 posts today, friends. Here is a gratitude list to round out the depressing beginning to the day's blogs:

1. I am grateful for my mom, who is my best friend and incredibly supportive of anything I do. She is beautiful and sensitive, funny and dependable. I can't imagine my life without her.

2. I am grateful for my dad, whose loving presence I always feel even though we sometimes go for a while without managing to talk or e-mail. What he and I share is proof that you can have the relationship you want with a person; it doesn't matter how it started out, or how the first 16 years went.

3. I am grateful for Rico, who is the best man I could ever hope to have in my life. I am amazed at how patient and accepting he his. Some days I am amazed that we even managed to find each other.

4. I am grateful for the cats in my life. Azul, Pria and Parceiro bring me enless joy and comfort.

5. I am grateful for my new job, my wonderful boss, and my coworkers who are increasingly also becoming friends. I am happy to have my potential recognized, and to have the challenge of putting myself to the task.

6. I am grateful to have enough. Money, food, clothes, friends, family, blessings. I am completely satisfied and provided for.

7. I am grateful to have a crazy streak that allows me to embark on all these adventures through the world.

8. I am grateful to have a family that didn't try to hold me back or make me fit in a box that wasn't meant for me.

9. I am grateful for a lovely extended family.

10. I am grateful that I know how to say "NO", though sometimes I could use a refresher course on this one in situations where I feel intimidated.

11. I am grateful that my allergy attacks seem to have decreased significantly.

12. I am grateful that I have a creative outlet (jewelry making) that allows me to do something I love and make some money at the same time.

13. I am grateful for high speed internet.

14. I am grateful for having the means to plan a wedding that will be truly special.

15. I am grateful for knowing how to read, write and speak.

16. I am grateful for little treats carefully brought back in a suitcase and stored for half the year, or unexpectedly discovered at the supermarket one week - cranberries, turkey, marzipan, chai tea, green chile, red chile, dried figs, dill weed, real vanilla extract.

17. I am grateful for this blog, as it has not only provided me with an amazing record of my experiences since leaving the US, it has also been my principal outlet for making new friends here in Mozambique (and virtually!).

18. I am grateful for the opportunity to travel home each year and visit my family and friends.

19. I am grateful for all the people that help me on a daily basis - my empregada, our guards, my taxi driver, my work colleagues.

20. I am grateful for music and dance, in all forms, all the time. They are what keep me sane much of the time.

21. I am grateful for this day, this moment, and all those still to come. I hope for the wisdom to realize that this is all that really matters and live in a way that makes me happy.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. We will be eating tonight in the company of about 30 friends. On the menu: turkey, cranberries, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, yams, matapa, rice, french crepes, spanish tortilla, pumpkin cake, cheeses, apple crisp and ice cream.