Windows to the Inside
Summoning My Private Ocean of Calm
I have had a lively fall season of shows this year, from small showcases to a festival concert stage at BoroPride in Murfreesboro (with my awesome band!) last weekend (pictured above). When I get on stage, the objective is to perform to the best of my ability and connect with the audience. If, by some miracle, any of it looks easy, the truth you see when you open a window and peek inside is a bit complicated.
When I perform, I conjure an ocean of calm. Amid the voices in my head and the chatter of the audience, there has to be a space I carve out where I can feel strong and focused. Otherwise, self-doubt, nerves, and anxiety creep in. Being vulnerable in front of a crowd of people is a lesson in being human that I cherish every single time.
I take a few deep breaths and remember to smile.
Potential missteps, like hitting a wrong note on the keyboard or forgetting a lyric, drive me crazy, but somehow, I get up on that stage. I risk it all and go for it.
There is a reason why one of my favorite things to do is to sit at a beach and stare out into the ocean. I did this a lot on the island where I grew up. It has felt like a safe, meditative, and calming place for me all my life. Nowadays, my ocean is a crowd of people.
This year, I have made some key changes to my performance. I stand up to play at my keyboard now, and my costumes embody more of a bold, regal palette with gold and red hues adorned with lots of jewelry. Moving forward, I have given myself permission to look and feel fabulous on stage. My glittery costumes are now my suits of Filipino-inspired armor and extensions of my creativity.
When I am not on stage, I am low-key and nerdy about all the art I make.
On that note, have a look inside.
COLOR NOTEBOOK
Sailing.
Precious fruit.
Idea for a makeover.
ABSTRACT FLOWERS
This week, I want to share a pivotal moment in my work. My drawings of abstract flowers have come about organically over the years, but early on, I drew a piece that made me step back and think, “Huh, I could do more with this.”
In my head, I was toying with the idea that plants could evolve into a future in which they took on the physical traits of various animals to survive and thrive in extremely harsh and inhospitable climates. I thought about the patterns on turkey feathers and played with the idea of applying that pattern to the petals of a flower.
I was essentially doodling when something started to take shape.
As I progressed, this flower gained a body and a form. Its leaves looked like tattered sheets of fabric.
When it was done, I absolutely loved it. A flower I now call the Turka Melea was born. (Meleagris is the genus for the turkey.) This piece is on display in my studio and stands as a reminder of what these flowers can become—strangely beautiful adaptations, otherworldly creatures who will thrive on a completely different planet from the Earth we know now.
I know this premise sounds impossibly grim, but it is also hopeful. We should always hold out for hope.
Other flowers have formed outside of the sketches I share out of my small notebook. My garden grows.
STILL LIFE
Do you remember the little kitten I rescued from the side of a road last year? Well, he may be as close to being adult-sized as he will get. I never thought I would ever have a fluffy, longhaired creature to care for, but life’s surprises can be the most precious gifts.
Here he is asking for a belly rub. I love this cat.
We have Filipino friends visiting from out of town who are staying at my Mom’s house. They made a beloved Filipino dessert called halo-halo. I contributed the Filipino-style leche flan that served as the topping.
This dessert is hard to describe, but think of it as a shaved ice treat mixed in with all kinds of sweet and tropical goodness. Coconut and sweet beans play leading roles in the mix. It was bliss.
UPCOMING SHOWS FOR FALL 2024:
