First things first… sorry it has been so long since I’ve posted something here. As life in Ecuador feels increasingly more 'normal,' my motivation to record my day to day has decreased.
Where have I been?
What have I been up to?
Maybe you are wondering these things, I am stuck pondering these things
too.
I last posted to this blog in January. Since then I have had visits from my
sister Molly, cousin Tom, and my Parents.
Since then I have made more friends in Quito, started to regularly teach
art classes in Lloa, perfected a carrot bread recipe with Mayra, injured my
knee, explored farther into the hill sides of Lloa, found waterfalls a three hour walk from my home, been to the jungle, been
higher in the mountains, gotten fed up with the packed buses in Quito, written
pages upon pages in my journal, cut my hair again (not my best work), been
frustrated with the process of getting projects started, felt on top of the
world when part of a project works, I have missed home, missed Maine, I have
been swallowed by the internet, I have been consumed by the TV series “Dexter,”
I have been shocked by hard to swallow news from the states, I have been
immensely happy that I am in no other place than here…
Time stretches and I continue to face every day with a range
of emotions sometimes feeling defeated but more often then not, feeling that
the world is getting bigger as I question the infinite possibilities of my
imagination.
Ecuador is amazing.
It is filled with things that you could scarcely imagine. Have you read a story or heard of one
in which a tree talks to an ant, where trees walk, where vines grow flat like a
piece of paper, where vines full of vanilla beans dangle lush and gleaming over a pristine
river, where a lake glows green then brown then blue in the mouth of a volcano
whose throat tunnels downward into the core of the earth, where clouds spill
like waves against the mazes of green valleys in the mountains, where the cure
to a sickness is made by collecting things in the forest or garden, where a
people exist that have never contacted the outside world, where a people exist
that do not know that they live in a territory we have named Ecuador and a
planet that we know as earth. This
is a place that makes you appreciate that stories of fiction may have more
truth than those that are based in facts.
It makes me think that the imagination is not transparent, it is
tangible and its sources can be traced to the mixing of realities we see and
experience.
Ecuador then is one of the most fertile lands I know where
the imagination can grow. Animals,
nature, people that you thought only existed in stories, exist in the dance of
the sun and the moon every day. My
heart flutters as I try to understand the part of me that is my imagination and
then I stumble and fall as I try to convey the importance of this in my daily
dealings with people. Whether I glide or I stumble, I feel fortunate to be here.
I feel fortunate but I also find myself very often
confused. Time widens the gap to
my connection with the US. I miss
friends, family, and places, but not because I think my life in the US was
better. Life in Ecuador is
good. It is comfortable and I am
happy. I have less clutter of things,
less desire to consume, and with this more clarity in my thoughts. I saw a tea pot in the store the other
day and thought… “o wow, teapot, your awfully pretty but unnecessary in my
life.” A little further down the
isle I saw stacks of popcorn bags (the kind you put in the microwave)… how
wasteful this seems… why not just put some kernels in a pot, crank the stove to
high and let them pop, doesn’t this make more sense then all the trash that
comes from the thick popcorn bags.
Less is more.
Maybe you have heard this before.
But, less of what? What
kind of things? For me this would
be less clutter in material things and words that don’t need to be spoken, this gives me more room to imagine.
I love the United States, and I love Ecuador. I appreciate that a teapot is
unnecessary, but I am also excited to pull my teapot out of storage when I get home in another year so that I can hear it's whistle pour some tea and sit on the porch to weave different realities together…
continuing to imagine.
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| Molly, Tom, and I at lake Quitatoa |
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| Painting and Drawing workshop |
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| Holding up our self portraits. |
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| Taking a moment to breathe after Saturday morning yoga. |
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| Vanilla Bean Vine |
