ART at the blue

There's been a lot of interest in the art that is currently gracing the studio. Here's more information on the artist and her work!

Emily Huffman holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Tulane University in New Orleans. Recently relocated to San Francisco, for the past three years she lived in Raleigh, working out of Bonded Llama Artist Studios and exhibiting work in several spaces in North Carolina. Her paintings are primarily oil on canvas and paper, and her sculptures and installations include materials such as cast metal, resin, fabric, found object, and organic natural materials. Her painting process is intuitive, marks responding to marks, content revealing itself over time. Abstracted images and forms are embedded into fluid, dynamic, gestural fields. Her sculpture and installation work, in contrast, begins with a specific question, curiosity, or material, and then enters a very intentional, repetitive making process that is often tied to specific time tables, rhythms in nature, or people in the community. Emily also explores creative and transformational energy in the healing work she does as a holistic massage therapist.

Currently on display at the blue are two paintings, Boat Magic (2008) and Bear (2007). To view more of her work visit www.emilyhuffman.com.

Boat Magic
2008
60" x 60"
Oil, pencil, clear gesso on canvas
$2500

Bear
2007
40" x 60"
Oil, oil stick, pencil on canvas
$2000

Nepal Photos

So much to see, and so much that is impossible to catch on film. Take a look at photos from Nepal.

Thanks again for coming along for the ride!

Heading Home

Namaste!

It's been just two weeks, but I feel as though I've been away from home for months. Perhaps most of all, I will miss this ubiquitous daily greeting- a warm namaste, with a slight bowing of the head, hands touching at the heart- the reminder of our divine nature and our shared humanity.

It was good to come back to Nepal after so many years. My first visit left me with an incomplete, rose-tinted view of this country. Ten years on, the picture has been filled in with more beauty, but also many unpleasant truths. And I am glad to see more honestly, more clearly, this place on the other side of the world. The practice of not turning away was both a huge challenge and a great blessing during this journey.

Even as I planned, I was uncertain of the deeper "why" of this trip. I thought perhaps it would become apparent while I was here, but it has not. I'm glad to have met so many good people, and to find a worthy place to contribute funds collected before I left as well as a place to offer future support where it is desperately needed. I've also made the contacts necessary to plan a return trip with a group from the studio (let me know if you are interested!) so perhaps that will unfold as well. For more insight, perhaps I will need more time to process all that I have seen.

But I am ready to go home. I will be so incredibly grateful for heat, electricity, fresh water from the tap and fresh air to breathe outside. I look forward to a long, hot bath, lying in front of the fire with Padma, and plentiful fresh food in the fridge. Sitting here waiting for the taxi, I recognize how much I have missed my friends, my Blue family, and the comforts of a very priviledged life in the Western world.

So after this journey of exploring the outside world, I have been asking myself what is on the inside. Sitting here in the reality of the freezing cold, coughing and sneezing, with an aching head, I want to collect the emotional sum of this trip.

Most obviously, I realize that I have, finally, slowed down. Spaciousness with my time is one of my greatest challenges, and I want very much to take this space home with me. The more subtle answer is that I feel clear and open. Not clear in an enlightened or inspired way, but clear, all the way through. Although I have missed my regular practice, I realize that my practice here was just to be, and let it all flow through.

Most of all I am left with an idea about what I want to leave here with. Whether a resolve, or a promise; a prayer or a dream, it is to love without fear. I wish it for myself, I wish it for you, and I wish it for our world.

I'll see you soon.

Peace,

Jill

Giving is Selfish

Or so says Declan Murphy, an Irish teacher in his mid-thirties who has been living in Kathmandu for over five years.

Declan first came to Nepal for a foreign teaching stint while working on a degree back in Ireland. The last two weeks of that trip were in Kathmandu, where he met and began to talk to all the street kids. As so many Westerners here do, he was awake nights thinking "what can I do to help?" And so he acted, and paid for schooling for three of the kids he had met.

That was just the beginning, and it wasn't long before he moved here and started an organization that works with the street kids of Kathmandu. Some are tossed out and others escape violent homes, but often, the kids choose to leave and find their way on the streets. Aside from the obvious concerns of food and shelter, drugs, child trafficking and child prostitution are significant problems here. But perhaps as great as those, says Declan, are the tourists.

In all the guidebooks, you'll read again and again not to give to beggars. The over-simplified reason is that by giving to beggars, you are breeding a begging culture. But talking with Declan (long after the power was cut for the night and well past the time our waiter would have liked) was enlightening, as he explained how the damage runs much deeper.

Speaking in relative terms, just the fact that a Westerner is in Nepal indicates a level of wealth incomprehensible to most Nepali people. And so we come, and travel and trek and shop, and to ease the guilty conscience, we give pens, or rupees, or biscuits to the adorable kids, or the begging mother with a sleeping child in her lap. Kids are given what they ask for-- whether it is money, food or just time and attention, and so they return to the streets. What 10-year-old kid would choose school over $5, a pack of cookies and loving attention from a foreigner? And after leaving school so early, what hope does he have for a future?

Declan had so many, many, many stories of the kids, the work he is doing, and the life of a child on the streets. And slowwwwly, slowwwly, one kid and family at a time, they are helping.

Once per year, Declan goes home to Ireland for fundraising in the schools. What he is teaching Irish kids, is a good reminder to anyone living a conscious life. You don't have to be famous or rich to make a difference in this world. But you have to do *something*. Unlike many of the struggling non-profits here, Declan's organization is flourishing as they support street kid's transitions into homes, financially support the families and get the kids to go to, and stay in school.

It's a rollercoaster. Declan said that just yesterday was one of those "what am I DOING here?" days. But today, he's making a difference.

Our wonderful evening together left me with a lot of the questions that I offer up in class: Are you living a life that is in line with your beliefs? Are you just taking in this world, or are you giving back? What do you believe in, and are you spending your time, your energy, your money, and your words in ways that support that belief?

Thanks for reading, and coming along on this amazing journey with me.

Peace,

Jill

Patan

The more time I spend here, the more I experience the emotional rollercoaster between hope and despair. On one hand, I meet amazing people (both Nepali and foreign) who are working to save the environment, the women and the children of this country. But on the other hand are facts, stories and images evoking hopelessness and futility.

By all accounts, the government is incredibly corrupt. Like everywhere else, as money buys power, power breeds greed, egotism and fear. Only a small portion of foreign aid ever makes it into needy hands, and in spite of the literally thousands of aid organizations in Nepal, many who are involved see more harm than good being done, even with the best of intentions.

I've made many new friends in my time here- Nepali teachers and counselors, a Canadian therapist, a Tibetan artisan, a Kashmiri shopkeeper- and they all have stories to tell about what they have experienced: their fears and hopes; what they see as the biggest problems and possible solutions. As a Westerner and outsider it is difficult to take it all in, and harder still to stay detached and sort out my own opinion.

So for now, I side with Gretchen, an art therapist from Vancouver who is in Nepal for one month training the Nepal House staff and other interested teachers. Over dinner one night we discussed this rollercoaster. Even as she was speaking, I wished a recorder was running; my best effort will still do her comment and sentiment injustice. "Even if I can give a little bit of hope, a little bit of love. If I can be a resource to one person to help, it's worth it."

As you hear so often in these conversations, "slowwwly, slowwwly..."

With a grateful heart,

jill

Kathmandu

Pokhara airport is just funny. When I can actually post photos, I will. The single one I did post took about 30 minutes to upload. I've tried multiple times since then, but having both electricity and a solid Internet connection for that long is nigh on miraculous.

Pokhara Airport. The place is deserted. It really looks abandoned-- left somewhat recently, but abandoned all the same. Upon arrival at the Yeti Airlines counter (You may laugh now- yes- Yeti as in Abominable Snowman. This in contrast to Agni Air, which is the airline that I used from Kathmandu to Pokhara. Agni as in Fire. Who flies on Fire Airlines? Those who don't book with the Abominable Snowman.) I digress...

The Yeti counter. There is a handwritten sign-- if only I'd had the presence of mind to take a photo of it-- handwritten in English-ish is a note that due to fog in Kathmandu all flights are delayed for a a couple of hours. This delay was being either too long or not long enough, as sixteen lucky passengers, ended up on a Yeti Charter flight. Sitting down (having literally climbed in and squashed myself into a seat, backpack on lap as there is no stowage even under the seats) I take a look into the cockpit. I can actually reach forward and tap the pilot on the shoulder to see when we are leaving.

There is a fasten seatbelt sign that humors me; I have the feeling that if this baby actually takes off, in the event of an "emergency landing" the seatbelt won't be doing much to help me out. Likewise, there is the universal "no smoking" light. This has less to do with the dangers of second-hand cigarette smoke and more to do with the fact that if someone were to light a match or flick a bic, we'd all be goners since it would surely ignite the noxious, toxic gas fumes that fill the cabin. Our lovely Tibetan air hostess ducks through the cabin with a plate of cotton and hard candy.

The flight from Pokhara to Kathmandu is less than thirty minutes, but it was a very, very long thirty minutes. The nausea could have been from the rocking and hopping or due to inhaling the plane's exhaust. Either way, I was exceedingly happy to land.

***

Kathmandu has changed so much in ten years. There are literally hundreds of guest houses and shops, restaurants catering to tourists (right now lots of Aussies and Chinese), Internet cafes, money changing offices and more all packed into the same narrow, windy streets. It's a bit of a shock coming in from Pokhara, where things are a bit slower and quieter, relatively speaking. After making so many friends in Pokhara, it also feels a bit less friendly, and overwhelming. But as I begin to open up the Complaint Box in my mind, I recognize it's just me...wherever I go, there I am. And it's my decision how to have this experience. So keeping perspective, I bathed in HOT WATER and washed my hair. I've never felt so clean in all my life.

Driving here is ridiculous. With all the tooling around that I've done, I've not seen a single accident or pedestrian fatality. Amazing, miraculous, remarkable-- these are just a few words that begin to describe the phenomenon. There are basically no traffic signals, and when I say that, I am refering to signs, lights, turn signals, of any kind. So instead, everyone uses the horn: to pass, to turn, to let another motorist or pedestrian or cow know that you are there, to announce the fact that you are about to turn a corner or go round a bend, when traffic is too fast, too slow...you get the idea.

So we have masses of cars, buses, auto-rickshaws, cyclists, and pedestrians speeding through the streets with no lanes, no rules, and no common sense. The Nepali people must be used to it, because they step into the street and cross with hardly a glance, and don't bat an eyelash when they are nearly plowed down by someone merging from the far side of the road, across a roundabout, into oncoming traffic. It is, in fact, so completely out of control that I just don't really even watch. Perhaps because I am too petrified or maybe because it is so completely out of my hands that I may as well surrender to the moment.

Just a few more days, it's all going so fast...

Blessings!

Last Day in Pokhara

I’m sitting on the rooftop of the guest house, soaking in the last of the afternoon sun before it disappears behind the hills. It’s quite hazy, so the Himalaya have been in hiding since mid-morning, and there is something of a fog nestled into the trees below. I can see the north end of Phewa Tal (the lake here in Pokhara) and am happy to take in a slice of Nepali life. The smell of wood smoke and incense are always in the air, and my heart is full.

I love, admire and am fascinated by life here and I currently have a bird’s-eye view of it all. Women are doing laundry on surrounding rooftops, children are yelling and playing in the alleys. Men and women at home and in shops repeatedly perform the daily ritual of moving dirt and dust from one place to another with small hand-brooms made from straw.

Cows and water buffalo roam through the streets, as do some of the dogs; though it seems that since I was here last, there is a new phenomenon of dogs as "pets." Sometimes they are simply hanging around the home or shop where I assume they are fed, and other times, sadly, kept on very short chains. Snowy egrets who make their homes on the far side of the lake can regularly be seen against the lush green backdrop of palms, banana trees and some tree akin to our poinsettia.

Despite the peace and beauty, it’s never completely quiet here. There is the ubiquitous sound of honking cars, trucks and motorcycles, construction, as well as human voices living life in public. The sounds of many birds, barking dogs, and children yelling in the streets ceases only at night. The people here are early to bed and early to rise, so as the sun disappears, things will slowly wind down.

Up on the tallest hill on the far side of the lake I can see the stupa of the Peace Pagoda. This monastery and shrine were built recently, and we took a hike to see it up close earlier in the week. Monks from the major Buddhist traditions came together to build the beautiful structure, inset with figures of the Buddha and strewn with prayer flags. With no car traffic allowed, it’s an oasis of quiet. I stick to my initial theories about the Buddhists: when it comes to construction, they pick the BEST places!

As for me, I’ve fallen into traveler mode quite quickly, and let go of my Western standards of, well, most everything. Without judgment, there is so much spaciousness for the life here. Having said that, I have decided that four days is really as long as I can stand to wear one pair of socks. After that I am offending even myself. (a sense of humor is also an essential part of life!)

Blessings!

Happy New Year from Nepal!

Namaste from Nepal and Happy New Year!

It's been less than five days since I arrived, but somehow being a whole world away makes it seem so much longer. I got into Kathmandu on Sunday night after about 30 hours of travel and flew to Pokhara on Monday afternoon (where I am now).

Pokhara lies to the west of Kathmandu, in a valley of the Annapurna Range. This is the second largest Nepali town after Kathmandu, but still quite small. It's primarily a jumping-off point for trekkers and mountaineers headed into the Himalayas, rather than a destination unto itself. The town is situated around a beautiful lake and the streets are lined with guest houses, restaurants and shops offering Nepalese and Tibetan handicrafts. The people here (and throughout the country) are as beautiful as the scenery.

One reason for my visit to this particular place was to meet in person with the people from Nepal House, and this is how I spent my New Year's Day. Basantha, Shiva and Bima are the driving force behind this new, small non-profit organization that works with abused, neglected and traumatized children throughout the Pokhara valley. It's a HUGE and OVERWHELMING amount of work, and what they are doing is incredible.

The children they are helping have suffered at the hands of alcoholic parents, been physically and sexually abused in a culture that does not discuss such problems, have seen family members murdered, lived through landslides...any horror you can imagine for a child... and they are helping in a place where there are essentially no other resources available. They work with orphanages, schools, "social services" in the small way it exists in Nepal, and are slowly becoming known for the work they do.

There is a significant problem in this country with child trafficking (buying/abducting children and taking them to brothels in India) and they recently got involved with a case where two girls were rescued from such a situation.

Listening to their stories is heartbreaking and inspiring; you hear and see the best and the worst of humanity. They are truly pioneers in this country, as "whole child" integrated therapy does not exist here. It's incredibly exciting to hear about their work and the changes it is creating with the children; and learn about ways that we can help.

When I met with them today, I dropped off a big bag of medical supplies, and some soft toys. They expressed need for some items that I will purchase and send back from Kathmandu, and we are talking about some ideas for continuing to support their work. In February, we'll have a veg pot luck and slide show, and I'll share it all with you!!

Tomorrow we go to visit a local school and orphanage. And I will keep you posted as travels continue.

Much, much love and many blessings in 2009!