getting ready

Traveling for distances can take careful planning. Usually before we do our five and a half long week treks, there is much reading to be done. Ken does a great job scrutinizing the places we travel to, while I read contemporary authors that talk about the places we will visit. Once over there we both use our intuitive reasoning to either break the plans we sketchily thought about or devise another route.

We will be going to Vietnam and Laos in three weeks. We applied for our visas which takes some paper work and cost. Sometimes, there are mistakes on the dates of departure and you need to call the embassy to straighten out these mishaps. If you don't pay close attention, these small details can cost your some money you hadn't anticipated. Our visas had expired two days before our departure while exiting Bali a few years ago. It caused quite the stir at the airport, some jangled nerves and a couple of hundred of dollars from our pockets.

There are always travel precautions about certain diseases that the country might carry. Almost always we take malaria medication with us because we visit rural areas. Last year, we were given oral typhoid which is good for five years. A combination of hepatitis A and B usually comes in the form of a booster shot good for ten years and Japanese Encephalitis was a concern in 2004. This time our Lonely Planet Travel Guide strongly recommended to invest in extra travel insurance because both countries do not host the excellent facilities as Thailand and India have for instance.

These are just a few things to gather before taking off, not to mention getting time to do this venture, a house sitter for the dog and to take care of the house in case a pipe breaks. I get anxious too before departing about our safety. Once over there however, you see everyone traveling from the old to the single wanderer to families with small children seeing the outside wonders of the world. There is this general excitement that you glean from fellow travelers; a camaraderie of togetherness of adventure. All in all, the work (and some worries) is worth it; the travel fantastic and edgy and the journey always indescribable.

dia de Meurtos

The Day of the Dead is a prehispanic tradition linked to the agriculture calendar celebrated at the beginning of harvest. For the prehispanic people "death is not the the end of our existence, it is only the path of transition to something better."

Following the Mexican tradition, November 1st is for the children that passed away and November 2nd for the adults. In that day people who died come back to their former home to enjoy earthly delights if only for a few hours. Their relatives light up a copal or incense to "cleanse their home of bad spirits, so that the soul of their deceased can come in without any difficulty." The offering ritual allows us to be close to the people who have departed and commune with their memory with their life.

I was asked to do an altar at Out North Exhibitions curated by Indra Arriaga. While setting up my design in the exhibition space, I felt the tenderness of the moment and being surrounded by other altars that people devoted to their loved ones, I worked very intuitively. It was a deep meditation; afterwards finding out the meaning of what I showed and the objects that I chose for this piece came out automatically. You can see a glimpse of my altar in this video. Mine has a dark cloth draped on the wall with stars, suns and crescent moons(owned by a young man who died at 21 years old), a chair covered with a goat skin, a moose skull, dried straw flowers, leaves, significant stones and several pictures of friends that I had lost over the years. I was moved setting up the altar and felt a benevolence completing this piece. This was the first altar that I had intentionally completed (although my studio wall hosts numerous recollections from both the living and the dead.) A local Mexican singer can be heard in the background of the tape and I don't understand all of his lyrics but the song bellows a sweet sorrow of tune. During the festivities, Mexican bread and hot chocolate were eaten. It was a nice evening and well attended by the locals; in the future one I would encourage everyone to see and experience. It is open for everyone to participate and do their own homage to their ancestors. You can discover these small gems in Anchorage; this one in particular left me with a profound recognition of my temporariness, my community, the closeness of the living and the now, and most importantly, how to cherish the people around you.

follow the ecstasy

Sometimes I wake up and seem to spin circles around the day rather than be productive using my time to the maximum. It was such a day today (although still not finished) and with bright sunshine, the light is just good enough to watch all day long. I have discovered that acknowledging the beauty of the day can be good enough!

Last week, I went to the library and being interested in the spiritual and contemplative life, I set out to investigate a few teachers or mentors that I had always wanted to read. One book is by the Dalai Lama called An Open Heart, Practicing Compassion in Everyday Life and the other book is called Follow the Ecstasy, The Hermitage Years of Thomas Merton by John Howard Griffin. I started with the Dalai Lama and left it mid way to explore the Merton book. Currently, I am engrossed with Merton; a slow but fascinating read. It is a minute by minute psychological journey of his thoughts, actions and consequences; how he sought out solitude to achieve a purity of spirit and to become closer to God. Merton was a wonderful poet/mystic; deep and clear resonates his words. He was also a painter.

What is clear about both men is that they exemplify humanness and as I delve further and further into the Merton book, I see how it mirrors myself. It is honest, edgy and real. Follow the Ecstasy examines the last three years of the monk's life. (And with a little gossip expressed here - Merton fell in love with a young nurse during convalescing with some back surgeries. It makes me think of the great painter Michelangelo who also struggled with his love for a young boy and was so torn apart by his feelings because his actions did not follow the dictum of the church. Oh, guilt - we can do without you.......)

The book doesn't leave me feeling anymore composed or relaxed about the human condition but it does deepen my thoughts about being okay the way I am. The best part on this journey called life is that we learn to love ourselves in a profound way so we are able to give it back while slinging it and singing it at the same time.

what gets me started

It's money making time for me; adjunct teaching and doing some freelance jobs affords me exotic travel to invigorate my art making senses. This time, pictured above and below, I included two pages of a sketchbook recently completed for the Brooklyn Library Archive, NYC. Artists submit small 8" x 6" moleskin renditions of whatever they might want to fit or include in the creative book. The exhibit will be traveling throughout the country next year in January 2011. My sketchbook will be included in the library's permanent archive where the public can peruse and leaf through my journal of creative journeys.

Presently, I am working on several sketchbooks at the same time; weaving in and out from one to the other, letting paint dry in one book while setting up another page makes for a constant interaction of doing and trying to make the pages work. Sketchbooks are good in between projects and they instigate other ideas.

I enjoy working on these small canvas like sheets; you can easily rip one out if the expression isn't working your way but otherwise, I paint, glue, cut, shape and collage my way onto these works - in other words these manipulated sketchbooks are perfect examples of readjusting and formatting a design that can evolve into lovely paintings, drawings and sketches. My sketchbooks include some personal travel notes and thoughts. You can go back and forth with your ideas while they evolve into some interesting sculptural identities.

fall dance

Fall is my favorite season because it is dramatic and in Alaska it is a sudden alarm after the heat, long days and sunshine of the summer. I grew up back east where the weather turned suddenly around late September. Around me, I would stomp through the massive swirling leaf piles and softly observe the turn and smells of nature. It is a subtle expression that fits me more than any other season. Living in Alaska, it brings back memories of my childhood on the Jersey coast and Indian summers were marvelous to observe by looking out on Atlantic's sparkling horizon. Of course things change from season to season but with the golden colors, you have the fresh air and winds, the waving trees and sprinkling of falling leaves like someone emptying out their drawers. Fall is an announcement of change, Alaskan darkness and things around the corner. I guess you could say that with every season, but fall is remarkably distinct, mysterious and beautiful because it seems to linger with newness and anticipation. I embrace it with fondness every time.

just a short note about time, attention and things

Summer is officially over. Usually, I find myself dragging the last bits of summer sun into my life by ignoring the fall/winter signs. I wind up wearing sandals and shoes without socks or I go out without the extra outer wear that is so prominent in this area. (Outer wear is our Alaskan style or mode of having a coat, jacket or a sweater for all of the occasions. And, still that is not enough and we feel we are still missing something or it is not the appropriate thing to wear.)

With this weather, I am forced to be introspective; am back to gathering funds for outside travel and getting sufficient studio time while quickly scurrying to set up our affairs before leaving leaves me overwhelmed and waking up late at times into the night. Faced with pressed time, I realize that I cannot cut corners with my family, friends and my dog. Everyone deserves to be listened to and given thorough time, attention and focus. Blue, my dog, needs my care and I find her more responsive by brushing her and being with her whenever I can. Before going out in social gatherings, I resign myself to listening to others rather than broadcasting about myself and what is going on with my life unless I am asked. This is a small service that I try to do but I often fail at.

We recently bought a iphone and the action of getting another thing to learn threw me off; it sent me into a tizzy but I soon recognized that I must follow what I preach to my students about being updated with technology and electronics. My husband commented that these changes are good because we are forced to use our minds to apply different, innovative transformations and configurations. Last night in bed, I couldn't sleep and I found myself with this new gadget, playing around and surfing the net. This action seemed more off than perverse, but I readily accepted this diversion and chuckled to myself. At this time, I need to embrace all the subtle contradictions that I inhabit. Paul Campbell, the great philosopher, commented that humans constantly seek the ultimate experience of feeling or what it is to being alive - that is our quest and inquiry. No wonders and great wonders.

like an old lover

There was ugliness I saw cruising the Los Angeles freeways; a low laying haze fog/smog (what is it really I would continually ask to this day?), concrete block structures line the roads, whizzing cars, far away trees that looked like they needed good watering - this city has a way of wrapping you in it's industrial claws but you wind up loving it nevertheless. Throughout my time spent there, I would term Los Angeles as industrial romantic. I lived in the downtown area and arriving as a visitor last week to see friends and art sparked and renewed memories of when I first moved to the city. I felt the California allure all over again (without having to travel to the Westside) - especially tweaked by seeing Baldessari's Pure Beauty exhibition I fell in love with it's powerful mystic. At night, I would achieve an insomnia persona hearing all the familiar sounds - the hum or the buzz of the freeways, this lingering roar coupled with distant barking dogs, lights would flicker in and of my room by the passing cars on the street. I would remember my loft nights and the trucks barreling down the streets that would thunder through my nerves; it was in Los Angeles that I fell into the artist community and developed additional substance as the creative thinker, (but always with distances to go.....)

I was happy to leave early Sunday morning. When I got back to Anchorage, I looked at the photos of this city and found it looking beautiful and inviting. Los Angeles lives up to it's massive culture laced with eclectic surroundings and people. My girlfriend says that the city has something to offer for everyone. Los Angeles sets up an illusion encased in a Hollywood facade - a fascinating place that holds onto the mystery, the charm and the Peter Pan existence of never having to grow up.