wave thrashings & oaxaca cheese
on happy[ish] accidents & the art of honoring death
plein-air painting under the lifeguard tower shade at sunset.
writing from my macbook with a hazy green screen and watching tiny bugs crawl over the slats of our outdoor kitchen table. settling into life here. awestruck moments are interspersed with small hurdles and a bit of chaos.
on halloween, we were whooping for drag queens in ballgowns and dancing through a torrential downpour before i dropped my phone into a run-off stream and nearly lost it in a storm drain. now, on this día de los muertos, i’m praying the local repairwoman (who’s already revived it once after a moped-related casualty) can bring it back from the dead.
lately it’s been a mix of gratitude and the small anxieties of daily living. making chile verde egg tacos with oaxaca cheese each morning and learning to surf with my love seem to balance things out. our spirits jolt awake each time we get thrashed by big waves. we cackle after bobbing to the surface, gasping for air and finding each other again. it feels like a necessary reset.
this week the streets have been buzzing with bright marigolds stacked high and halloween costumes fluttering from tiendas. in the local spirit of celebrating death and life, i strung a garland of orange flower heads by the door and set up an ofrenda. i drew a picture frame and wrote the names of loved ones who have passed since we don’t have their photos here. hoping the things i am learning this season serve as offerings, too.
tending marigolds for día de los muertos - attempting to take part in local tradition with care.
i’m in an awkward phase with the two plein air paintings i’ve started… gaining an awareness of where to leave blank space for the light. my recent smaller studies have turned out better, perhaps a subtle reminder to take the process less seriously.
‘samhain study’, drawn from a forest park shoot with dear ones in portland.
it’s been a hard few years for friendship, too. learning to voice boundaries before hurt takes root. another kind of tide to navigate. letting go of what i can’t change so new light filters through.
remembering that chaos can be embraced rather than resisted, and that beauty and mess are usually intertwined.
beautifully twirled queso oaxaca
