Dream divas

My good friend and founder of Panama Kontacts, a facebook group in which Latin American expatriate women share information about life in Panama, invited me to speak at this month's "tertulia", or "discussion/chat". She told me my story inspired her. Wow. That was my first reaction. My next reaction was to get very excited about what I was going to say to a group of women who wanted to know how I fulfilled my dream of going to culinary school in Paris...and to facilitate a discussion about how to open your mind to the possibility of realizing your dreams.

What to say, what to say...to a group of women who live in a country different from their own. Why are they in Panama? Housewives? Business executives transferred by their companies? Did they come seeking political asylum? Seeking a better life? Are they mothers? Are they wives? Are they single? What to say to them...what to say.

They turned out to be strong, interesting women with a lot to share. The setting was DGAG, a rockin' contemporary art gallery whose owner is a dynamic Venezuelan woman filled with creative energy. I decided to ask my audience of dream divas about their own dreams, and to keep those visions in their minds while I gave my presentation. I told them my story and talked about being positive, having a happy life, about building your life instead of just living it (see Ashton Kutcher's speech in reference to Steve Jobs' concepts of building your life). I said that fun marriages and relationships are all about adventures, and that if you support your significant other's dreams and they support yours, you will have many adventures. I told them that by realizing your dreams you would most likely enrich the lives of the people around you and some dreams would result in better communities, cities, countries, and a better world. 

I reminded them that if their children had visions of them as strong, determined women, they would inculcate the idea that you should never settle for mediocrity and that once you experience the feeling of achieving one extraordinary thing, you'll become addicted to being that way, and that you'll forever be motivated to do bigger and better things. We agreed, however, to always be thankful and feel humility by the thought that what you achieved, you did so with the help of others.

I gave them three tips: 1. every morning, when you wake up, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and envision your dream, and do it again before you go to sleep; 2. say "yes" more; and 3. once you achieve one dream, think of the next.

We identified the following characteristics of happy people (inspired by a Huffington Post article): they dream, visualize, and succeed, they tell their stories in order to share tools that are necessary to build, evolve, and persevere, and they turn gratitude into energy that helps them face challenges.

I received positive feedback from the audience about the conversation. But the most satisfying part of this experience was being in a female powerhouse, a room filled with women who created a new life for themselves in a new country, some for professional reasons, some for personal, some who had to leave their country of origin because the political situation became so bad that their dreams were being stifled. 

The human right to envision hopes and aspirations is a powerful and beautiful force to be reckoned with.

Mind, body and soul

I remember when I was nine years old and my mother took me to the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC to see my first Monet. I imagine that the pastel colors and lovely flowers and fields as subjects would delight most young girls, just as they delighted me.


At 31, those paintings still speak to me in a special way. However, I don't think it's necessarily the pastel colors and nature subjects that draw me in these days. I've grown to appreciate a deeper meaning in what Monet painted. His Nympheas can be so dramatic. In fact, the other day when I saw them at L'Orangerie, I thought of extreme beauty which leads to a kind of melancholy. Can something so beautiful last?


Monet managed to document moments in nature on his canvases, and people still flock to them by the thousands. Reproductions of his work are rampant, and everyone can identify his work from a mile away. However, the reproductions are nothing to the original. The subtleties of the brushstrokes and intensity of the colors are not able to be matched by a camera or computer imagery. 


So lovely are Monet's Nympheas on canvas, that I had to see the real thing; his inspiration for such dramatic beauty. So, last Saturday I saw this (the masterpiece)...

in awe of monet's nympheas at l'orangerie

...and the next day, at Monet's house in Giverny, I saw this (the inspiration):

monet's lilipads in giverny

My purpose for coming to France was to study culinary arts. However, I find myself feasting on the work, and the inspiration, of the genius artists who lived here once upon a time. This country is nourishing me - mind, body and soul. 


More Monet (details of his Nympheas and details of his Giverny gardens):

moss underwater

A note on this father's day

Please pardon the mushy content of this entry. I hope you're able to look beyond it, however, and appreciate what I'm trying to say.


Husband
I fell in love with my husband immediately after I met him. But the thing that really told me he was the one for me was when I realized that he would be a wonderful father. I can remember the moment I thought to myself that if he had children, the world would be a far better place. I knew he'd be an awesome person to have a baby with. To educate the way I wanted, to travel to the places I wanted to go, to experience the world in the way I can appreciate, and to love in the way I know how to love. 


Father
My father is one of the coolest people I've ever met. He is the voice inside my head (actually - it's his and my mom's voices together that does the trick) and guides me. He has a high position at one of the world's most important organizations, he is generous, intelligent, hilarious, and everyone he meets loves him. 


Father-in-law
My father-in-law is one of the most giving, patient, and selfless people I know. He's dedicated his life to teaching wealthy, underprivileged children, and everyone in between, to adoring his wife, and to supporting two wonderful sons. 


So, my son is covered. He has the best possible male role-models I can think of. He's already showing signs that he has all of the traits he sees in the men around him. I'm a happy mom.


What does this have to do with my food blog? Well, I just wanted to write about how these three men are making this experience possible for me. My husband, for not only telling me to go for it, but for constantly encouraging me and telling me I'm going to be great at this cooking business, and also for living up to that image I had of him as a magnificent father. My father, for being that voice inside my head who tells me that if I want to do something, I have to do it right. And my father-in-law....well, I think I'll tell you a little story to illustrate this man's limitless patience and joy for taking care of his grandson. I came home the other day and found him on all fours and my son on top of him saying "fire chief!" with the biggest smile you can imagine.


So, all you fathers out there. Remember that you're not only raising your own children, but are supporting an entire network of people, including grandchildren and daughters-in-law. You have a lot of power. Your image means an awful lot, and your encouragement can raise mountains. 

hold my hand, and i'll take you where you want to go

Tipsy at the Musee D'Orsay

I don't have an addictive personality. I've never been interested in drugs, have never smoked a cigarette in my life, and can count on one hand the amount of times I've been "drunk". I'm actually a total light-weight, and get a buzz after one gin and tonic that my husband prepares for me. I am, however, addicted to art. If I don't get my dose of good art once in a while, I go into a kind of creative withdrawal, which leads to a feeling of emptiness.

Today I had the perfect Paris day and I got my art fix. My fantastic in-laws agreed to babysit while I got lost in a museum - one of my favorite things to do. Off I went to the Musee D'Orsay to see the fantastic permanent collection but also the special Edouard Manet exhibit. He is considered "inventeur du Moderne", and a predecessor to impressionism. It's been about thirty years since an exhibit has been dedicated only to him, and he well deserved it. It was breathtaking. 

My mind and soul were nourished by Manet, but my tummy was empty, so I headed to the museum restaurant. I have to say that the only nice thing about this place is the setting. The food is over-priced, of course, and leaves much to be desired, and the tarte aux pommes was very simply disgusting. Seeing the half-eated slice on my plate, the waiter asked me if I didn't like it. I said "c'est terrible". I'm rarely this blunt with waiters because I was one once, and know how hard it is to take criticism about food you had no part in preparing.

I did have a lovely rose (I hate that I can't put accents in these entries!) wine with my lunch, however, making the whole experience a bit more enjoyable. I was never into rose wine before coming to Paris, but have since taken a liking to it. Here, as soon as the weather gets warmer, the rose is drunk like water. It's refreshing and it's pretty.

Needless to say that the one glass of rose made me a little tipsy (yes, laugh all you want - I'm a cheap date!) Let me tell you, however, this is a FUN way to walk around a museum. Toulouse-Lautrec's can can dancers looked like they were going to can can right off the canvas. Degas' ballerinas looked three-dimensional and were doing plies right in front of my eyes. And Monet's lilly pads were lilly padding away, looking more beautiful than ever. 

But it wasn't the rose that was making me tipsy. It was being around masterpieces that were nourishing my soul. Sounds a bit dramatic, I know, but if you suffer from this art addiction as I do, then you understand completely. I need to get my dose once in a while or else part of my soul and the creative side of my brain die little sad deaths. 

The museum replenished me, and the rose was the cherry on top.