Mole is a Miracle

Today I tried my hands at making Mole.
Years ago I'd ripped out a mole recipe and stuffed it into one of my sketchbooks. I recently rediscovered it and decided yesterday to try and make it. Whenever I go out to Mexican restaurants one of my favorite dishes to try is the house mole. I am searching for a memory of Mole I had in Oaxaca, Mexico back in the fall of 2004.

Granted I was in my mid twenties backpacking through southern Mexico alone. I'd just left a wild new romance in Mexico city for some time on my own to think and explore. With little sleep on the bus ride from D.F., I arrived into Oaxaca battling a cold. Walking into the main market in Oaxaca, I remember feeling both intimidated and energized by the rows of stalls selling fruit, licuados, home made artesania, and cuts of meat. As I arrived at the comida corrida, all the grandmother's voices called me over, I could barely decide which bench and little kitchen to visit. I can't remember what the woman looked like, but I remember the red and white checked plastic table cloth she had placed on the table. I sat down, inhaled the aromatic smells, and ordered the mole with a coffee.

It arrived on a modest white plate, the chicken was shredded, the mole poured over the chicken and onto the rice. Tortillas were neatly rolled up on a side plate for mole dipping. From what I remember this mole was comforting and complicated, I could taste a hint of chocolate, but it was mixed in with so many other unimaginable flavors that I could barely discern. Forgetting my sickness and crazy boyfriend, I found myself temporarily healed as I finished the plate.

I have never been able to relocate the taste of that mole. This is what I love about mole that it is a mystery and that is uniquely seasoned by every region and cook across the world. Every person does things a little different.

As I shopped for and prepared my mole, I marveled at the ingredients; plantains, tomatillos, chiles, allspice, sesame seeds, dark chocolate, oregano, cumin, coriander, raisins, almonds, pumpkin seeds, and more. Perusing recipes, I realized all the different techniques to cook the parts of the mole and the chicken; pan cook the nuts, grill the fruits in lard, heat the chiles in warm water. Settling back on my original recipe with a few improvisations, I asked for Cam's help in the last minute as I worried that it didn't taste quite right. A bit more chocolate and salt and voila! I made a great Mole, not as good as the Oaxaqueno grandma's, but that one was tied with memories, location, and home-cooking, like a good mole it was complicated and it maybe to perfect to ever replicate.

Birthday and New Year Rituals

I've always enjoyed having my birthday between Christmas and New Years because it means that people are in town and have a little free time. I've done a lot of things in birthday years past and when I thought about this years, I decided I wanted to have a day where I could connect with friends that I love to have conversations with. Not wanting anything large or fixed on a specific time period, I decided to have an open house/ party based around a filmed ritual at the park, a potluck, and a potlatch.

At 2:30 Cam and I met, at Tower Grove Park to do a test shoot with our Super 8 camera. After Cam had finished recording me dressed as a crow/hawk, a handful of friends and family members showed up. I enjoyed the random and brief spontaneous acting at the park, it was a nice shake up to my usual rhythms of the day. As I returned home, BJ showed up in a volcano costume and Cam and him had fun running around the neighborhood. Meanwhile I began to cook and welcomed my oldest friend Jenn (since pre-school!) and her co- worker. After much talking, I returned to the kitchen to start the Paella joined just in time by my friend Amy who assisted in prepping the food. From then on people slowly began to show up and the table filled with good foods. Conversations, eating, music, followed. There was always the right amount of food and by the end of the night there were just a few leftovers.

Additionally people walked away with coats, clothes, and books from the potlatch. (A Native American gift giving ceremony in which items are redistributed) In our case, friends brought things they did not want and then other friends could take them. I was left with only a milk crate of items for the good will!


The only drawback of the night was that our dog growled and barked at people, so Cam had to keep a close eye on her. This proved to be another journey in learning to responsibly socialize a rescued dog.

After a New Years connecting with friends about our New Years intentions, listening to an African Choir, and enjoying fondue and conversations at Chris and Jessi's house, I am feeling really happy and supported. I am thankful for all the amazing friends I have around the world, that I have come to know in long and short spans, and I love that ending this year, my heart is thinking of all of you.

As I look to the New Year and consider my intentions or resolutions, I've come up with the following three ideas.

Frugality- I've got to start putting money aside for our trip to Paris, also I want to continue to pay off my credit debts, I'd like to embrace a more frugal lifestyle this year and really enjoy the things I have instead of focusing on what might be missing.

Sustainability (personal)- I want to continue the positive habits I've developed the past years, eating right, regular exercise, personal quiet time for art, reading, and writing, and connecting with friends, all these things keep me going and keep me energized about the world around me.

Intuition- I'd like to listen to my gut and heart this year. I want to follow my instincts when I am making decisions and trust that I've acted following my conscience and needs.

New Dog, Aha Moments, Old Friends, and self doubt.

My Dear Reader,
I've been holding back. First, I got a dog. After much sadness over the loss of our family dog Shane (see earlier post) and several years of reading Craigslist pet posts, I fell for a dog. Her name is Sheba and she is now celebrating month 1.5 with Cam and I. She has helped Cam and I remember to be present in the moment and joyful. Stealing shoes, peeing on floors, and herding us around our apartment, she has done her best to test our dog parenting skills with her puppy dog behaviors.

Second I really haven't talked about a project that I've been working on for over a year now. I've been interviewing my mom and some of her close friends in hopes of making an animation about their friend Connie Carr, whom we lost in the tragic Kirkwood Shooting back in 2008. I started the piece last fall after I received encouragement via a grant through Critical Mass, an online arts community in St. Louis. Starting with a visualizing meeting, where I set out my hopes for the project in a discussion and Powerpoint, I then worked with the group to create mind map collages about their intentions for the films and its message. The following six months I interviewed six different women and then sat upon the arduous task of narrowing down our conversations to a concise and logical one hour.
Wanting to represent the beginning of the creative process of building the animation, I created an animated short based on the women's descriptions of our hometown Kirkwood. Additionally I used my working props to create a wall drawing/ installation of the town around the animation projection. Check out this link, to here how an artist friend of mine experienced the piece.

Since the beginning of the project, I had wanted to figure out how to involve the women in building this film. I intended to hold animation prop building and workshops, which I will still do, but additionally I was getting held back by the "how" to involve. I just had a major A-ha moment, following an A-ha moment about a month ago. Which was I decided to have a viewing session in which the women I interviewed helped to edit the video. This would allow them the agency to shape the story and help me escape the tunnel vision I had been developing about the overall effect of the story. I found that during this meeting, the editing became another aspect of the collaboration that lent to the telling of the story.

I had a wonderful meeting with this group of powerful women and received really specific answers on how I could edit the piece. Additionally their enthusiasm for the project thus far was encouraging. If you out there know any other filmmakers working in this sort of collaboration please email me their names as I'd like to learn other ideas for involving the people I interview.

This past weekend I spent time with old friends who had come to St. Louis for a baby shower. Spending time with old friends was a fantastic and nurturing experience, I remember them cheering me on when I was young and struggling with depression among other issues, to reconnect with them for the night was grounding to say the least.

Finally I had a really nice dialogue at the Luminary panel on art after graduate school. I am still processing this and am going to start some readings that evolved from this discussion, more on this later.

Cam and I found out great news- we learned that this summer we were selected to stay at the Cite Residency. We wrote a proposal together to make a film and will now be able to make it happen! My heart is expanding at the thought of this unexpected opportunity. It reminds me how nice it is to have a trip to or experience to look forward too. Now we just have to figure out how to pay for it, gotta get working. I am also reminded how I experience success also with a degree of guilt and burden. ( i.e. There are so many deserving people...Now we must do something interesting.. )

I am trying to focus on the joy of receiving this news and vote of encouragement. I am looking forward to spending time with my siblings as they return to town. I am hoping to get my Christmas shopping complete and slow down this week after a period of general busyness.

Happy Holidays
Sarah

My Morning Doves

I've been watching these birds for the past three years. It all started when a momma Morning Dove laid eggs in a flower pot on our back porch. I watched as her and her partner cared for the eggs the entire spring. I even recorded their strength in protecting the eggs during a rainstorm on this video link. One day when the parents where out getting food, I snuck out to look in the nest and discovered two baby birds. Since they were so young, they didn't seem afraid of me. I quickly ran back inside, not wanting to scare the mother away.

Around this time, I invested in a bird feeder to put on my front porch so that I could ensure the little birds nutrition and encourage them to stick around. This fast became a spot for all the neighborhood birds to hang out.


Cam and I watched as the little birds eventually hopped out of their nest and then later learned to fly. It was particularly funny to see how one of the birds was struggling to learn to fly- as he/she sat on the ground, the mother and other sibling would stick close and then swoop down near him/her goading him/her to fly.

Eventually they outgrew the flower pot and moved somewhere near our house. I would see them perching on other rooftops, porches, a light pole, but they always kept close. It wasn't unusual for me to hear them swoop down above my head as I entered or left my house. I started to notice that they would walk around on the sidewalk whenever the food was empty, as if to alert me. Occasionally I'd catch the young birds sitting back in the old flower pot.


Since then they've had more children. At times I've seen 8 of them by the bird feeder. They are my most devoted birds as they are out on the porch regardless of food, water, or time of day...
When I am out walking in Tower Grove Park I wonder if I've sighted them. Apparently crows can recognize people, maybe mourning doves can as well. Some people say that they are not very smart birds but actually they were almost trained as passenger pigeons. They may be lazy builders but them seem to be caring and consistent family members.


These birds represent to me a connection to nature, to place. In an urban city where I have less green space, I'm energized by the way in which I can still participate in an animal ecosystem. They are like my wild pets. It gives me great joy to watch them grow and in my own way, I have a relationship with their bird family. The drawing at top I made in honor of the birds. I even taped a photocopy next to my window so that they might see.

Garage Sale + Art Project= Love

My father and I are both purgers, we like to get rid of things. Each Sunday I do an inventory of what I'd like to let go of and I place it in a box to get rid of at the end of the month. My mother and brother do not have the same tendency. With that in mind, I have spent this past week helping my mom go through her closets in preparation for a garage sale. She is not a hoarder like on the TV shows, but she definitely keeps objects after they have passed a purpose in her life.

One of my favorite jobs this fall has been helping my mom fix up and release things in her life. Its sort of interesting, because not only am I collaborating on an art project with her during our making of the animation Elegy to Connie, but I am also working with her around her house to fix up projects that have not yet been completed. Helping my mom complete her old projects, I've found has been contagious in my own life, as I find I am now trying to on a weekly basis complete projects I've had on hold. In completing these projects, I feel like I am keeping my word.

I think by finishing old projects and getting rid of excess clutter in our lives, we make space for clarity on other projects. It is also sort of like a re-setting of goals. I was further motivated to help my mother have a garage sale when she told me that if I would organize and work the garage sale, I could keep the proceeds. This could be another source of income. Finally, I could do another action as a part of my project Recall, Redraw, Release and put that project in an environment that related to its very meaning.

Alternative Incomes
My work schedule has been lighter. I have had less teaching work, as my class did not make, which has led me to explore some alternative sources of income. For an artist, I think this process can either be frustrating or invigorating. The possibly frustrating aspect is that gigging for work is not necessarily reliable, must be actively pursued, and can lead to work that is not art related. I've been having fun trying to find different means of income. I can say right now that I've got a nice balance between working and art making. I am reminded of how I tried to represent the art work/ work quandry in my "Live as an artist Project". Check out this funky graph below I made that charts the relationships between income source, studio time, and mental outlook.


*Barter-I really love bartering because it feels like an equal exchange of skills. I think in part because the two bartering parties actively try to reach a common ground that feels about the designated trade. Bartering in my life right now includes:
Bartering for yoga with my yoga teacher in exchange for tutoring her son.
Creating a work of art in exchange for future canvas stretchers.
Trading an illustration and photography session for singing lessons.
Trading video editing lessons for editing my writing.

*Freelance-I've also been taking some jobs doing freelance illustration for paintings and invitations. In the past I've done freelance editing as well. Most of these jobs come word of mouth.

*Teaching- This is one of my regular gigs but this fall it has extended into tutoring and private art lessons.

*Selling things- Whether its at an art show, Etsy, or a garage sale, selling things feels good. Yesterday's garage sale was a fun reminder of how, you never know what your audience or crowd would like to buy.

GARAGE SALES=WIN, WIN
A garage sale is a great end to a process of decluttering and organizing. It's a win win because suddenly not only have you simplified your life, but you are also able to make some money off of the things that you no longer need. I also love the intersection of community that a garage sale enables, suddenly a series of neighbors and strangers are temporarily in your space to take things of your hands. Its a moment of public sharing as well as story swapping. At yesterdays garage sale, among many memorable conversations, I met an enthusiastic young boy building a treehouse, a man that had just lost his dog, and a woman from England preparing to get her Masters. Meanwhile in objects; we said Goodbye to old TV, tacky fish bank, 1970's hiking back pack, inflatable boat, hummingbird feeder, pink brooch, Peter Frampton record, walkman, Playstation, and several other forgettable things.

RECALL, REDRAW, RELEASE
In honor of Artica, which was happening concurrently with our garage sale, I decided to bring Recall, Redraw, Release full circle. Last year at Artica, I invited people to bring an object they wished to let go of, but could not because of a memory associated with it. I created a drawing of the object and memory in exchange for the object. The donor, tagged the object with the memory. Donated objects were then free to a new owner, as long as they would write a short post card message to the previous owner detailing why they liked the objects. I then mailed the postcard to the old owner. I had been collecting objects since this first Artica sitting, mainly through private sessions at my studio.

During the garage sale, I put up a shelf of my collected items. It was really curious how people discovered these pieces in the garage sale, they were initially puzzled by the messages and the fact that the objects did not have prices on them. This usually led to my project explanation. Once hearing about the project and finding out the items were free, some people seemed less interested in the objects. They would have rather have paid for it. Someone described it as if the objects felt sacred, unlike the other stuff at the garage sale, it seemed people did not want to take the item unless they really felt drawn to its meaning. Furthermore I think it led people to contemplate their own collecting, I may have inadvertently discouraged them from buying other things at the garage sale. People thanked me and said that it was a really positive project. I watched a few people read every tag. I even passed my contact info onto someone who thought they might want to participate in the project. Finally, the people that did participate and take an object included; the young kid building a tree house and a woman that herself left notes in public for people to find. By my analysis, they were already creatively inclined or interested in alternative art practices. Nonetheless it has reinvigorated my interest in this project, so if you'd like to participate, please drop me an email pintorasp@hotmail.com.


I would also like to point out that my show at RAC, the beginning of Elegy to Connie, are described in depth in this post by Andrew Raimist, check it out! It feels so good to have someone take the time to write about this work!



More Later,
Sarah

A Photographic Guide to Crabbing

While staying in Washington State, Cam and I were honored to have our friend Dave Lux teach us how to go crabbing!


Step 1. Get your traps ready!

Step 2. Prepare your bait, preferably a stinky chicken that sat outside for three days, a fish head, or in our case fish bits we bought at the bait shop. Secure your bait in zip tied orange bags.
Step 3. Toss your trap out into the water. So fun! Ideal spots are near fish processing plants where crabs regularly get food or spots along the pier where there are not as many crabbers

Step 4. Entertain yourself while you wait for your crabs to enter the trap. This might include, taking walks along the pier, going in town to eat salt water taffy, using the bathroom, reading books, or talking with other crabbers about their catch. Do not just watch your trap, very boring!

Step 5. Bring your trap in and check for crabs. If you catch a crab make sure it is male and has reached the acceptable size to be removed from the water. The Dungeness crab had to be at least the size of a dollar bill. Keep your crabs in a cooler with water to eat later. Have fun watching them battle!

Spirit of the Singing Dog

A few weeks ago I had to say goodbye to my best dog friend and I've decided to write about him because while we have rituals for burying people, I need a ritual or act (this writing) to bury my dog. My last memory of him is quite like my first memory of him, a gregarious energetic dog running towards me. When I first met him, his enthusiasm won me over immediately. As he ran towards me this last time, I began to cry, because I realized that despite the pain he might feel, he wanted to give me the best greeting he could, and that would supersede his exhaustion. My mom later told me that he had barely moved that day until he saw me.

Now, I miss his greetings. He has been a regular fixture in my life and a source of joy for the past twelve years. In the end it is the little things I’ll miss, because Shane appreciated simple things.

Sunning in our front yard or rolling in snow, he always seemed to honor and play with the changing season.

He was enthusiasm. As a young dog he greeted everyone he met by jumping up on them and trying to lick their face.

He loved explorations. I remember watching him gallop off through the woods at the parks I would take him too, only to have him faithfully return when he heard my monkey call. When he learned how to swim at Castlewood State Park, I watched him joyfully swim in circles that became bigger and bigger as he became more confident.

He made me believe that animals understand art; when my brother began to take piano lessons, Shane began to sing along with him. His howl changed volume and pitch depending on the intensity of the song, at the crescendo he began to bark. It wasn’t a one-time trick either, he sang so much, that my mom had to put him in the basement during Billy’s music lesson. You could still hear him from the basement and Billy’s teacher would say, “I think he really liked that song.” Shane understood and appreciated the feeling of Classical Music better than anyone I knew.

He had an astute memory. Shane knew the way to the park. We had one hill that we always ran down and every time we would approach that hill, his pace got faster.

We had a bond that he could drink the milk left over in my cereal bowl. Whenever he heard the clink of my spoon against the bowl, he’d run over to wait for his part. You couldn’t even say the word “walk” or begin to tie your shoes without him assuming that an adventure was about to occur.

He was a protector. When I was younger he would greet me every morning by jumping up on my bed and sleeping on my feet for an hour. This was one of my most comforting and favorite ways to wake up. Whenever a family member returned to sleep at our house, he slept by them the first night of their visit, to welcome them.

He was eccentric. He liked funky smells and foods. He would roll in the armpits of my stinkiest t-shirts. He loved cheese and peanut butter. One time I made a fowl tasting leek dish for supper, we immediately put it in the compost. We saw him jump in the compost and eat the leeks, only to puke them up in our lawn an hour later. We often caught him sleeping on his back with all four feet in the air. Sometimes he liked to sleep in my closet.

He had his own fears, he liked to hide out in the basement shower or in a car when he was afraid of the storms. Now as my parents clean up their house, I discover spots where he ripped up the carpet, no doubt in some sort of weather anxiety.

He looked like he was part deer, part lion, part reindeer, or Clifford the big red dog. He became the youngest child in my family, Shane was so much a part, that often during our family meals he’d lay his head right on the table next to one of us. Of course he might try and sneak a piece of food of your plate as well. But really I think he just liked it when my family was together. He would eat his food when we ate. If we sat down to eat, Shane would go and knock his head on his bowl as if to say I am ready too.

When we would leave he would lay at the front door. Now he has left us like my Grandma Marek, ravished on the inside by some mysterious disease. There was no losing of mind or 1000 goodbye’s. As I walk my parents house the emptiness of his presence is felt, no clopping of dog feet, no daily mail man bark, no scratching at the back door. No more dog chairs and couches, no more hair massing on the floor.

I often thought that if Shane had been reincarnated, he would have been a Casanova in another life, that now had to pay for his infidelities by being the most loyal of animals. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, he has graduated his life as a dog with highest honors. I’d like to imagine him being born as a prince. While I do not know the nature of what happens to animal souls, I think he might have more soul than some humans I’ve met.

What I most regret is not spending more time with him this summer as I worried about travel and work. That last time he stayed with me we took him swimming, we looked at ancient cave paintings, he hung out at my studio, I laid with him in the bathroom during a storm. The last week I saw him I remember that I watched him sit and look out over the back yard for a long time. I like to imagine that he was saying goodbye to this space that he knew better than anyone in my family. I regret that in my day to day of work, live, I was distracted by unknown stresses instead of just being present with my animal friend.

Around the world, people bond and form relationships with their dogs. Perhaps there was a time when that was what we mainly had; the wilderness and those few special friendships we had forged with the animal world.

In my own lifetime, this fall, I want to embody the qualities that a dog can teach us about how to be in the world. I hope to carry on some of his positive traits.

To be a dedicated, forgiving, unyielding friend.

To be ever enthusiastic for the simple things in life; company, nature, food, and art.

Goodbye to Shane the singing dog.