Glory

Last night I went to see "Midnight in Paris", Woody Allen's new film. No, this is not a film review but rather a "note to self" (I quote Peggy Fleming here).

To say that life has been stressful lately is putting it mildly. I have not been tending to my own "garden" as it were. My "garden" is where inspiration blossoms, passion is grown, and my soul is nurtured. Last night I was desperate to water the garden and somehow I knew that "Midnight in Paris" would fill that need. I printed tickets ahead of time as I had the feeling that there would be a crowd at the small Menlo Park theatre called "The Guild". There was. We got the last seats in the very front row off to the left side. The only visual in that location was the art deco molding in antique gold swirls that kept my attention until the movie started.

I am the kind of person who gets very involved in a movie when I am in the audience. There is no half-way particpation for me. So when the movie started, I felt transported to Paris...immediately. The film took me far away from myself and yet it managed to steer me into the tightly bound chambers of my heart at the same time. I know when I am being transported because the feeling in my face changes. My jaw relaxes and I feel a wash sweeping over my skin. It is transformational and it feels as if my own curtain is rising. It's emotional and so very satisfying.

When the lights came up and it was time to exit the theatre, noone left quickly. There was so much excitement and joy all around. When I finally started up the aisle I realized that the magic had not ended with the film. There was an older man standing looking up at the screen and he had the most marvelous look on his face. It reminded me of the feeling I get when I look at Parisian apartments and wonder what went on in them over the years. I would love to have known what memories were passing through his mind and heart in that moment. Everywhere I looked, people's faces were reflecting the magic of the film. What an accomplishment for a filmmaker!

There is such glory in art. I want to share in its glory...we all need to feel its transformational effects so that we can live very full lives. Art tends to our soul the way that water tends to the garden.

A Moving Adventure

For anyone who knows our family and knows the escapades of the past few Hollywoodian months, it is my hope that you can join me in finding the humor in this print on the Uhaul that brought Camille home from the "barrio" and brought my 91 year old mother along for the ride.

Life is certainly an adventure !

Ode to My Former Self

I look at this photograph taken on Christmas Eve and I now know it captured the moment before my life profoundly changed. I felt happy to be with my family and friends and was looking forward to spending the next few days with my parents. I was drinking champagne, appreciating all the Christmas decorations in the San Francisco restaurant we were dining in, and feeling the joys of the holiday season. And then the year turned.

I remember going to the bank and asking the manager how she was...how the holidays were for her. She looked up at me with her pale face and sad eyes and told me how the year had already begun with illness and death in her family. I walked back to my car thinking I had escaped all of that for the moment and yet I had the very distinct feeling that I was on borrowed time.

I was...we all are. In two months, my father would die and I would become a different person.

Now, two more months have passed and I am learning to live with myself differently. I don't get to be my father's little girl any more--at least not in the physical realm. I miss her, I miss him and I miss the me I got to be when I was with him. Colors are so much brighter now and sounds louder. Feelings are stronger and yet my heart beats less confidently. Everything, everything is amplified by 10. I just want to be quiet. I want to be well. I wish I could reach out and touch my father and I wish I could reach in and find my former self.

A Composition

Sitting, waiting. Life in review. Born artists we are...writing our own songs. Off key, on key --we are a prelude to our own lives and then we are a succession of chords, a refrain and a reprise if lucky. We sing in chorus with our friends and loved ones...joyful, full of hot air and deep breaths. Breathe.... We breathe our way to the end of the song and until the last breath we give it our all. Each day begins with a familiar tune and we hum it gladly, full of life and harmony. When the sun sets, our voices go quiet.

Sitting, watching my father breathe quietly, machines beeping all around us making noise like scratches in old records... I close my eyes and hear him practicing his songs for his singing lessons. He's in our family room warming up his deep voice, standing so tall and singing the first few words to his favorite song, "Old Man River". It calms me to remember.

If the maestro were to enter the room, the message would certainly be: keep composing, sing loudly and harmonize together. Sing until your breath is gone. Life is your composition.

Cakewalk

I was walking down Abbott Kinney Street in Venice this week and I passed by the window of the restaurant, Lemonade. I passed and then I walked backward to get another look at the coconut cake in the window. I smiled and not just any smile, but a very big one. When I looked at that cake it took me to the Blanche Reynolds School cakewalk fundraiser circa 1965. How I loved cakewalks. There was a very long table filled with cakes of all sizes and varieties baked by all the moms of the 1960's...that means homemade! I stood in front of that table for a very long time setting my sights on the cakes that I was sure were meant for me. Top of the list was the coconut cake! My mom bought the tickets so we could enter the walk and off we went. The music started and when it stopped, whatever number I landed on in the circle corresponded to the number of the cake I had won. I would hurry over to the table with the hope that it was the coconut cake. Well, over the years I won many cakes but somehow, never the evasive coconut cake. So fast forward to Wednesday and the window at Lemonade and there we have the perfect coconut cake! Where do you think I had lunch that day? We ordered lunch and then at the very end I asked for a piece of the coconut cake. When we got to the table I told Alain the story of the coconut cake....the one that got away! We both had tears in our eyes thinking about how the little things in life matter and how, if we are lucky, the child in us never leaves. Every bite of that cake made me smile....many years later I had the winning ticket!

This is a list of what I want....

There is just enough of a child left in me that I still believe I can have all that I want. Granted I now know that it will be me who has to supply it and not Mr. Claus! Today I woke with a sense of longing...I wanted to be surrounded by my loved ones, to make holiday plans, share wish lists and finish the day with a fabulous cooked meal. I love my alone time but not today. No reason, no rhyme, just not today. I was about to think that I couldn't have what I wanted and then I opened a old book. I was researching the crown jewels and inside was an old envelope addressed to Mr. Claus, 1 North Pole Avenue, North Pole, NP 00010. My heart started jumping as I read Camille's Christmas list to Santa. Just her handwriting made me happy! Long ago I began to place letters in books and forget about them on purpose. The thinking was that I would find them one day again when I truly needed to find them. Like magic they would take me back in time, flood me with memories and reminders that would then inspire me anew. With today's discovery, my longing lessened and I was filled with so many wonderful memories of times past when the Christmas list would get written, holiday plans would begin brewing and visions of that year's Christmas dinner would begin to develop. I could hear the excited voices and see the bright eyes full of dreams both material and otherwise and, in that moment, I felt surrounded by my loved ones. Instead of wishing for everyone else's lists and excitement , what I got today was that I would make my own.

So here is a list of what I want for Christmas:

Christmas spirit even when I am alone

Holiday recipes to share

Letters sent to me that I can keep hiding

Books to tuck them in

Oh, and maybe one of the jewels I saw in the Queen's crown...

Love, (one and only, I think) Carla Labat

Holding Steady

I finished a long 3 day event in Los Angeles to promote Camille K. Exhausted, I am on my hotel room bed reviewing everything in my mind. I have had 53 years to figure out what my passion is and now is the time to live it and make something of it. Funny, I didn't expect to be 53 at this junction in the road but life is surprising that way. I met over a hundred people and talked about the vision for Camille K jewels to each and every one of them. It was Carla Labat and Camille K in capsule form. What I know was that there was a lot of buzz around the jewelry--serious buzz and I am making sure that I draw the line between taking myself seriously and taking myself too seriously. I'm holding back yet striving to stay joyful. I want to believe and I want to hold steady.

During my dancing days, I taught students how to work from their "center". Imagine a dancer stopping in high relevé. Then imagine the dancer in that very controlled pose while allowing her arms to swing about through the air, with the head following and the body not far behind. There is freedom in the movement but the freedom comes from being able to control oneself, staying on center. I always loved the feeling in my body of the push and pull dynamic of dance and while I am not any longer dancing, I still feel the push and pull of life going on around me.

Now I am using my creativity to make jewelry. I am still presenting myself as I did in dance but only in a different form. I make the jewelry but the jewelry now performs for me. When it is on display as it has been this week, I am hearing people talk about it as though it is something unique and special. Something created outside the box. This makes me happy and I feel that what I am doing is good . Yet when I hear the words from Vogue and Glamour magazines, stylists for Hally Berry, Hilary Swank, Cate Blanchett, Cher, seasoned costume designers, buyers and young interns helping at this event, I listen, but I listen more to that part of me--my center as it were, that strives to keep me on balance. The biggest gift that their words give me is the gift of seeing myself through their eyes. They don't know me at all except for the expression that my jewelry allows them to see, and yet they offer me the chance to glance at myself from their distance.

There is so much emotion involved in creating anything. People explain their projects, visions, accomplishments and desires to me not knowing what my history is. I smile knowingly as the 2 time Emmy award winning costume designer explains to me how she feels her way through to developing a concept for a singer, dancer or actor. She explains it to me as though I don't know that world. Maybe I don't on her level and yet I do. I keep that to myself. There is no way that I could make the jewelry I make without knowing how to set a stage or choreograph a dance, how to interpret a character or how to feel the spirit of another human being. My jewelry sets its own stage. That is why I make statement pieces--the thrill of the "performance". I see so many things and feel so many things and I hope that my jewelry carries those emotions through to the wearer. If I do have this opportunity to design jewelry for "Dangerous Beauty", it will be the most amazing way for me to have "danced" on a stage of this size. And to design for a Venetian courtesan, well that would fulfill my fantasy of living that life each time I sit in the Palais Royal in Paris and imagine how that would have been. My jewelry is made for the courtesan in all of us and I know that. Somehow I know that and I don't know why. This is one why that isn't important. I am just happy that I know. Knowing is believing and that leads to believing in myself. That's the deal. I believe in myself and I hope my jewelry speaks that for me.