Inspiration
Articles to inspire authentic living on the topics of resilience, spirituality, and self-growth with touches of storytelling, depth, and humor.
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Bleeding to life
A warm blanket over my shoulders could not dissipate the angst for waiting for a doctor that was taking forever to show up. A thousand things in my to-do list, my mind going in circles planning how was I going to make the best out of the little time I had left to address my responsibilities of the day. A nurse with apologetic eyes kept coming in and out of the cold room. Finally, the doctor came in. I needed to get a contrast injected into my knee. The catheter was much larger than I expected but I was as collaborative as possible so that I could leave out of there as soon as possible.
The doctor was tall and thin, the kind of person that makes jokes without any inflection of his face muscles in a effort to keep you wondering if he was throwing a joke or filing a complaint. After the third “joke” I was laughing. We discussed politics, kids’ age differences, country of origin, why the doctor had sent me there among a variety of topics. After he removed the catheter he pressed the site and looked at me with a very serious face, or with his regular face, I should say.
“You have very thin blood,” he stated.
I thought for a second. “Is that good or bad?” I asked.
“It all depends,” he mentioned. “If you go to war and get stabbed, that is not good.”
I consider my options for a second. I have no plans of going to war.
“But if you worry about things like blood clots,” he continued, “Then it is really good. It can go either way.”
Threading the path to our North Star
There are women whose dream is to have a shoe closet like the one Mr. Big built for Carry Bradshaw: the shoe displays, the lights, an universe of heels and colors and tons of accessories that are more decorative than functional. Although I would not oppose to a closet like that (as long as shoes are arranged by color), there are other places that provoque my soul to vibrate at a much higher frequency.
A bookstore and its sister, the old-book section at a library; an art supply store with tons of items to play with and create the mountain of work I will never get to actually produce. Lastly, and the strange thing is that this one does not connect with my career choices: a fabric store.
My heart always jumps when I see the rolls of fabric. As a kid in a candy store, the awe accumulates in my stomach and comes out in a sigh. Maybe it is that sense of not knowing where to start, the physical need to rejoice in the different textures that caress the tips of my fingers, or perhaps the sensation of getting drunk on color overload and creative patterns. My soul gets greedy, I want them all! So like in a labyrinth I get lost comparing all the textiles, imagining what I would do with each of them: beautiful gowns that I don’t have an occasion to wear, summer dresses, swimsuits, handbags, upholstery for that piece of junk I found at a tag sale.
The loving eye
Las year I had the wonderful opportunity to study with one of my favorite painters, Antonio Lopez Garcia (b. 1936 in Tomelloso, Spain) for the second year in a row. This exceptional artist with his eighty-three years-old wisdom, opened my eyes in a very dramatic way. It literally felt as if he had drilled through the cement glasses I had been wearing. His poetic words and his guidance guided me through the beautiful path of relearning how to see, not only as an artist but as human being.
According to Zen Buddhism, I experienced what is called “Beginner’s mind.” It involves casting away all our preconceptions to see the world with renewed openness and eagerness as if we were learning something for the first time, as if were curious kids whose brains want to absorb the world around them. Despite all the years I had been painting before I was able to attend Antonio Lopez’s workshop, the experience taught me more than any other class, book or practice hours in the studio.
From all the knowledge, my favorite lesson was to learn how to observe the world with mindfulness, with care. After a few days, I felt as if I was in love with the world in a way I had never been before. The sun was beautiful, the clouds, the gentle rain, the leaf that fell at my feet, the amorous manner in which an older couple walked holding hands, the particular way my soul vibrated while listening a song, the shared laugh with friends. I was not passing through life, I was living. I started appreciating the beauty in all the things we usually overlook: the uneven pavement, the cars stuck in traffic, the sad face of a cashier.
Life Lessons From Art History
Today it would have been Virginie Avegno Gautreau’s birthday, better known as Madame X. She was the subject of one of John Singer Sargent’s most iconic paintings and a personal favorite.
Sargent had earned an esteemed reputation as a portrait artist by that time, one that was strongly influenced by his constant success in the Paris Art Salons and ample clientele. The painter was fascinated with Gautreau defiant personality, her exotic looks and elegance and ability to attract attention as a cherished socialite. I don’t know why Sargent then decided to take the biggest risk of his career.
He Asked Gautreau to pose for him. He spent days around her sketching her in different poses and then decided to paint her in a standing pose, featuring her profile, her svelte figure, her tiny waist in that provocative dress. It was in fact one the simplest and most brilliant paintings he had done. But it was not what catapult “Madame X” into the hall of fame of art history, it was a fallen strap.
Life is just a dance
Dance can be a lot of things: a workout, an art form, a hobby, a career, an entertainment, a party starter, a way to connect with others, a way to connect with our body. It is also one of the most freeing activities because, among many other things, it requires us to be absolutely present. It is mindfulness; it is heart, head and soul in unison.
That being said, my mind started wondering slightly today while dancing. As I was moving my whole body I realized that dance is the perfect analogy for life.