You’re my cool shores and western stars, where we live ain’t who we are…

At the end of my weekend trip in Uruguay, we drove up this windy road and walked down a gravel path that revealed the house of Carlos Paez Vilarao. This famous Latin American artist built the white clay structure called Casapueblo  on the side of the cliff overlooking the Atlantic coast with the most breathtaking view of the ocean I have seen in a long time. The Casapueblo was built in stages by the artist to resemble the mud nests created by the region's native hornero birds. It is now a hotel and a museum of his works, where admirers come from all over the world to marvel at his works. At sunset, we enjoyed a café con leche and listened to poetry recordings of the artist. Quiet, peaceful, reflective. It is in these times I look inward and feel the deepest love of God over my life. How constant, like the tide washing in and out on the shoreline, sometimes He may feel far or near, but He is always there. How He paints the sky with colors that burn my eyes, but I can’t help but stare. The Creator of man, created man and through art, poetry, music, dance - man gives back through his own expressions…a testament of His beauty and grace. Carlos Paez Vilarao called this house his “living sculpture”. Isn’t that what we are? Living sculptures formed from clay and dust, brought to life by His holy sacrifice. The Bible says that He is the potter, we are the clay. Our lives become shaped and moulded to reflect our experiences…and through them we change.  

Passing by the airport in the cab on the way back to my apartment, I saw families standing by the fence watching the planes land at sunset. Dads were holding their sons up on their shoulders as the massive jets landed in a glow of blue and green lights. Husbands and wives stood with their arms around each other, a steady hand on their babies’ stroller in awe of the runway. My dad used to take my brother and I to watch the planes land too. And it made me think of how people, families everywhere have so much in common, how the simplest things in life are things that we all share…

My second month in Buenos Aires is almost over and as I returned to the city after only being away for four days, I realized that I really do love it here. Maybe I had to leave to appreciate it. Maybe that holds true for everything in our lives, that you have to leave or it has to be taken away before you truly realize how incredible it was. After leaving my parents to spend four years in Providence, I developed a friendship with them that I wouldn’t trade for anything. After my brother left home for college, our relationship became stronger. And after leaving the guy I love, I still feel as though we are closer than ever before and the love I have continues to grow, despite the distance, despite the odds. Maybe we are meant to leave the things we love for a season, to realize how much they truly mean.  

“Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself.  It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.  Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.” – Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

El color en el espacio y en el tiempo...

After work one afternoon, my boss and now friend mentioned there was a new collection she wanted to see, featuring over 150 works of Venezuelan artist Carlos Cruz-Diez at the MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires). I am not usually a big fan of modern art, a red square on a white canvas or some paint thrown around may be art to one, but it just doesn't do anything for me, I just don't feel a connection to it. Maybe I have been spoiled by seeing the most breathtaking Renaissance art in Italy...staring up at the Sistine Chapel and tears filling my eyes and witnessing the faces of marble sculptures that had more true and real features than actual human beings. As I began to dread walking around looking at boring shapes and colors, my perspective completely changed as I entered the next room...

His exhibit, "el color en el espacio y en el tiempo" means "color in space and time" as the pieces seemed to come alive as I walked past, traveling through actual space and time. Using paint, plastic, cardboard, silk screen, light and shapes, Cruz-Diez creates the effect of the pieces physically changing form as I moved around them. If I stood directly in front, it would appear as a blur, but if I walked to the right or the left, I see different shapes appear and the colors change and sharpen. In fact, the yellow I saw within a specific piece, actually didn't exist, rather it was the retina's perception of the contrast of red and green stripes projected into space. The play of light and color appear as if they were living organisms in a constant state of transformation. It was incredible. It was moving. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. And yet, I couldn't help but notice the connection this art has to our lives. Sometimes, we see the picture directly in front of us. Blurry, confused, scary even. But when we change our perspective, when we walk around it and actually peer into it, our view changes, our attitude changes. And as the pieces change, we too can change. Morphing into the person we were truly meant to be. Through space and through time, we can each become greater than what we first appeared to be.

está sola

Most of us are at that point in our lives where we are discovering what it is we want out of our time here on this earth, and maybe you are not at that point right now, but trust me, you will be someday. Some of us face it head on, knowing what we want with confidence and conviction; others of us know what we desire, but for some reason the universe has shown us that it just is not meant to be, and some, are left wondering; left discovering. So here is my journey, to look fear in the face and move to Buenos Aires, Argentina for four months completely alone. I’ve heard it said that you should take chances in your life, to not live with regret, to follow your heart, and I feel as though I am doing all of those things, but it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Leaving the familiar for the unfamiliar. As I stumble to remember the Spanish I learned over five years ago, figure out how the gas switch works in my tiny kitchen, and avoid stubbing my toes on the crumbling sidewalks, I learn to notice the beauty in it all. To laugh at my mistakes and actually stop to smell the flowers and marvel at the lush leaves that shade me from the intense heat. I see the beauty and reflect on how I have so much to be grateful for. I think of my parents, who encourage me and provide for me to have these amazing experiences, my boyfriend who is my best friend, who doesn’t care how many times I cry to him on Skype and who loves. Unconditionally. And my friends, you are my pillars and your words of support are written on my heart and mind. So today, I notice beauty. The old couple walking their dog down the sidewalk, the best friends sitting in the café catching up over café con leche and the kids playing soccer in the park. Through it all, I know that when I discover what it is that I want to do, I know this will shape my life in more ways than I ever knew.