Welcome To The Jungle

My adventure in the Amazon

“Just leave me” I managed to moan. From my vantage point, all I could see were bare feet pacing the ground in front of my face and... what looked like a wild boar staring me down from beneath a tree in the distance.

“Agua” the guide shouted. “Agua”. My one remaining brain cell asked, what guide enters the jungle without water? Here I was five thousand miles from home, flat on my back in the Amazon, certain I was about to die. I would be eaten by lions, or worse by that bloody hog glaring at me. Who dies from a bucket list experience? A headline flashed through my aching cortex. ‘Canadian girl dies of alcohol poisoning in the Amazon Jungle’.

I had packed water for this expedition but clumsily managed to break the bottle getting onto the tiny raft. It never dawned on me that neither the man maneuvering the raft or the guide taking me inland wouldn't have water.

Understandably, this morning I was a little rough around the edges. The night before I had forgone sleep; not intentionally but let’s just say I was enjoying myself way too much. “I can sleep when I’m dead” I remember saying, glancing at my watch reading 4:00AM. Why travel if you’re not going to submerge yourself in the local culture? That was the whole idea. So when I left the ‘boteco’ at 5:00AM I had only enough time to pack a few items before heading to the water’s edge to meet my guide at 6:00. Note: The South American botecos (bars) serve a little differently than here in Canada. Instead of ordering your drinks and running a tab, the bottle of your pleasure is ceremoniously presented to your table and left there. A marker is then swept across the bottle indicating the level. When checking out, the waiter measures your bottle consumption and charges you accordingly. It’s a money-maker for the bar and just too damn tempting when your glass is always empty and the bottle is right in front of you. Suffice to say that there was nothing left to measure. Sure I’d generously shared, but Jack Daniels and I bonded.

I’d waited all week for this trek. Heck I’d waited years to see South America. Number five on my bucket list. As well as tour various regions, I had lined up a couple experiences. One was to mine semi-precious gems. To any collector, Brazil is a gem cornucopia - amethyst, emerald, topaz, aquamarine and countless other. And of course I wanted to experience the wilds of the Amazon river and the jungle, particularly to meet up with a rainforest tribe who would teach me how to hunt various plants and seeds that produced natural color and paint-like pigments.

The raft up the Amazon was an eye opener, even in my half awake state. I’d glanced at my guide’s knapsack several times intending to ask for water but was continuously sidetracked by everything around me. The Amazon is the wildest river in the world and as we snaked in and out of narrow tributaries, we floated past hundreds of different birds; Parrots in the wild. Insects of such vivid color skimmed atop the water. A school of piranha swam by, not all that big for their fierce reputation. A very large black and foul smelling vulture stood upon a fallen stump; head, neck and claws caked in who knows what, but it smelled like death. It’s legs bigger than my arms and its eyes piercing red. Small monkeys scurried among the treetops or hung from branches screaming at us as we slowly drifted by. Even an anaconda half buried in a mudflat lazily peeked out at us. Yes, this is exactly how I envisioned it. Everything was so alive... but what really fascinated me were the enormous, lime green water Lilies; eight feet across and supposedly capable of holding 136kg or almost 300 lbs. It appeared as though one could hop from one pad to another, but with what surely lurked beneath these giant shelters, I wasn't about to jump on one and find out. “Later, we swim in natural pond with waterfall”, said my guide.

The sound of the jungle is something I could listen to all day. The mornings are best, but then the serenity of mid day when animals are napping is pure serenity. The nights – well about the closest I will get to spending a night in the jungle is through youtube.

After forty minutes we navigated closer to shore and disembarked. As my guide explained some of the dangers of the jungle, instructing me to stay close and not to wander, I began to feel ill. “Suck it up”, I said to myself. "You’ve come a long way for this adventure. Breathe. Drink some water". The forest was dense, hot and the pungent scent of trees, grasses and moss reached straight down into my gut. We weren't fifteen minutes into our hike and I knew I was going to be sick. And then - I blacked out.

I awoke to a very small man, wearing a very small G-string and a bare breasted woman hovering above me. I’m in a National Geographic nightmare I thought. “No aqua” I heard the woman say. I rolled onto my side to be sick again and watched the little man with machete between his teeth shimmy up a nearby tree, only to disappear into the canopy of a thick green cloud. Seconds later I heard the thud of something hit the ground and looked up hoping it wasn’t the little man. There he was coming toward me, carrying something, machete still in his mouth. He knelt beside me and summoned me to watch. He split what looked like a large nut. Digging his dirty fingers into the pulp, he scooped some into his mouth. I watched him make a sucking motion, his hand running down his throat indicating the juice. He spit the pulp on the ground. Suck-swallow-spit. He gouged another handful of pulp and shoved it into my dry mouth. They don’t call it jungle mouth for nothing. Cautiously I bit down on the bitter seeds, desperately holding down another heave while slowly letting the juice trickle down my throat. Spit. Again, he motioned and after three infusions and the help of the woman sitting beside me, I was sitting and smiling. The little man beamed, his two front teeth missing. “Magic!” I pointed to the nut. “Que?” “Cacao” said the woman. “Chocolate nut” said the guide. “Does Bayer know about this?" I asked. Nobody got the joke. Within minutes I was standing, revived and ready to continue on. I reached into my knapsack, bowed my head in thanks and handed the little man my Guns N’ Roses/Welcome To The Jungle t-shirt. Again, he gave me that wonderful toothless smile.

As we trekked deeper my guide informed me that we would soon stop to eat and the scent of smoke and something cooking wafted through my nostrils, reminding me that I was running on empty. Another small man (it seemed the deeper you ventured into the jungle, the smaller the people became), wearing only a loincloth appeared out of what seemed nowhere and enthusiastically shook our hands. He led us to a clearing where upon a makeshift grill lay the ugliest, charred, black fish I’d ever seen. Lunch? That fish may have been the most grotesque looking thing, but it was the tastiest fish I’d ever eaten. Coupled with platano (banana) I was now completely restored.

While licking my fingers of every last morsel of lunch, a small group of nearby villagers arrived and displayed in front of us an assortment of wares – exquisitely designed blankets, jewelry made of quills, red and black huayruro beads (seeds) and mescal beans. There was pottery, sacks of medicinal herbs and bark, beautiful hand woven mats and baskets – all color dyed from indigenous plants. Plants such as the vibrantly red-podded urucum, more commonly known as the lipstick tree. This plant’s seeds have traditionally been used for body paint and dyes for over 2000 years. The seed is also used to flavor foods and today you can find urucum fruit traces in soft drinks, popcorn, cheese and butter.

After purchasing herbs and jewelry I relaxed in the shade with a cup of camu camu juice before a refreshing swim in a nearby pond. As I floated on my back, hearing the small waterfall in the background, only then did I truly realize just how important the sustaining of our planet’s rainforests are. We are dependent on its entire biodiversity and as I write this something new is being discovered. Whether it’s a plant or bug that can be used medicinally, or a natural food additive or a fiber (rubber/latex) or even a new animal such as the ‘olinguito’ only discovered this year (2013) – these rainforests are our lungs and life blood.

After studying different plants and painting our faces in vibrant colors, we said goodbye to our new friends and began our journey back to the raft, stopping along the way to collect leaves, bark, seeds, hazel nuts and acai berries. There on the path ahead was the little man that had saved my life. His bare breasted companion behind him. I thanked them both again, thinking that I really should have given my t-shirt to the woman. As we waved a final goodbye I rummaged through my knapsack searching for something appropriate to leave with her. I could find nothing suitable except a tube of my favorite coral lipstick. I ran back, took out my mirror, applied the lipstick to my own lips and placed the tube and mirror in her hands. Her smile was as illuminating as that evening’s full moon, of which I witnessed before being lulled into a ten-hour dream where I floated down the river on my own giant lily pad. What a day. What a memory.

FunFact: Although when most of us think about the Amazon rainforest, we think of plants and animals, birds and snakes, fish and crocodile, but did you know that today, there are over thirty million people living inside the Amazon rainforest? Nearly three million indigenous people from over 300 different indigenous tribes, some sill living in isolation make it their home sweet home.

Playing

July, 2013

The other day, when I was PLAYING, and in a minute I will tell you with what, I was thinking about all the things I wanted to be when I grew up. As most children, I dreamt of being many things, but my first recollection, living in wild, rural country where the nearest neighbor lived miles away and most daily interaction involved rabbits and birds, snakes and lizards, horses and dogs, and a barn full of animals – naturally I wanted to be a veterinarian. I think it’s a common choice among children. Maybe we relate to animals better than our parents or siblings. My father had built my brother and I the most fantastical tree fort and it was there that I whiled away the hours – writing, drawing, painting, and studying bugs and plants.

I had two toys that meant the world to me. One was a wood burning set where for hours I would burn images into the floor of the tree fort. My second and probably most important and cathartic toy, was a microscope. It wasn’t an expensive, real lab microscope, just a toy kit that came equipped with slides, labels, vials, stains, tweezers and tools, That microscope literally blew the doors off my mind.  I was not only able to watch and study a bug eating and digesting, but the colorful fractal images of a single blade of grass or flower petal put me in Wonderland. I soon promoted myself from veterinarian to zoologist/biologist. Gawd, I loved that microscope.

And then suddenly, in an instant – everything stopped. I didn’t write or draw or play with my microscope anymore. I moved – into a very small shadow, in the corner of my mind and there I remained for what seemed like an eternity. Why is of no importance here, but suffice to say, there’s a part of me that is very comfortable being alone. Don’t get me wrong, I love interacting with everything around me, including people, but I love my space and as someone stated years ago  “you’re your own best friend”.

And then, as suddenly as it had stopped, at the age of eighteen, it all began again. It was as though I had boarded a spaceship and transported myself to another realm. Once again there was fun, wonderment, excitement, ambition and something new. There was CHOICE? I’d never had ‘choice’ before. It’s one of the most important, powerful and maybe distinct elements of human nature. However, even though the choices were now mine to make, for someone that had led such an early sheltered life, it was a new concept. I didn’t live in the forest anymore, my school chemistry and math grades weren’t exactly conducive to perusing biology and more importantly there were so many choices to make, so many directions to go that I was somewhat overwhelmed. Therefore, I simply allowed myself to take a few hands and let the cards fall wherever my spirit’s interests led – which was EVERYWHERE. Whatever it was, it was new, fresh, exciting and sometimes very frightening, but once I got going it was like I’d found a map with paths and knew where all the treasures lay. And if you’re lucky enough to find the treasure (actually, luck has nothing to do with it) you attain even more opportunity and responsibility. It’s a never-ending cycle. Throw in some entropy – a little chaos and disorder and again – you need to make another choice. Gotta love it. Keeps it fresh.

And here I am, right now, under a tree. I’m under a tree PLAYING with MY NEW TOY! Yes, I have a new microscope and it’s taken me right back to that old tree fort. Right now, I am laying on my stomach in the grass, with the bees, the ants, and those little bugs that when you touch them, roll up into tight little balls - and I’m eye to scope marveling the intricate fractal design of a single mosquito wing. Amazing. I wish I had a camera that connected to the scope. Wish list.

In short, it’s been a whirlwind of a month and I played hard. No time to miss BPI. The email dings a little less and if my phone rings, I may talk to another ‘live’ person. Being an Artist generally means spending great deals of time alone. I don’t mean lonely, I mean peaceful, cerebral solitude – just me, my toys, my thoughts.

My internal clock has me rising late morning and retiring in the wee hours of the next. I get to blast tunes through the day, play with an entirely different late night social crowd and go to bed with Jimmy Fallon. I go to bed tired and wake up with the refreshed enthusiasm of whatever the new day will bring.

And BRING IT it is! Mid month I received a call from the Humane Society for a Petscape commission - their long term shelter cat Emma. She’s been a fun journey and I will be presenting her back to the Humane Society next week. I had wanted to go encaustic with this piece, but with all the rain, it morphed wonderfully into gold leaf and oils. I will show you when finished.

Last week the charming Louis, owner and sommelier of PaneVino, our local and very fine dining and toocoolwinebar establishment granted me a WALL. I’ve hung eight pieces of art. They are up until August, and if you’re passing thru Lindsay, come to CJ’s Gallery first, I’ll give you the nickel tour, before heading to PaneVino for a glass.

Back to my toys. I wonder what this paint chip looks like under the microscope?

Keep on playing everyone!

Blogs are simply – public diaries. I remember as a child I had a baby blue diary with a tiny lock and key attached to it. I also remember losing that key, which meant I had to cut my diary open. With no lock, it became an open book. As it is now, that diary was filled with hopes, dreams, aspirations, affirmations and experiences. I wasn’t afraid to try anything. I didn’t worry about time. I didn’t think about money.

I’ve spent many years in the entertainment field making stars and orchestrating other people’s dreams. I loved every minute of it. And I just wrote that in the past tense. Feels strange yet liberating. During that time, I filled many of my own dreams too. Some have yet to be realized and THIS IS what MY new venture is about. My creative spirit, my inner child is telling me it’s TIME TO PLAY.

I think as adults, sometimes it’s possible to forget how alive we really are. We can get trapped with responsibilities and limitations. Even the barrage of too frequent, disturbing images and events around the world can make us numb and want to hide under cover. I think it’s possible to forget about our inner child and all the things that make our hearts leap for joy. I think it’s possible to forget about the radiant intelligence of our inner child, especially when discovering something new for the very first time. I want to see more of the wonderment and excitement of the present in the way my inner child sees. I WANT TO CREATE! I WANT TO PAINT! I WANT TO SEE ART, I WANT TO SHARE ART. I WANT TO HOLD ART SHOWS. I WANT TO SELL ART. No confinement, no deadlines, no limitations and if my inner child wants to paint fluffy purple clouds – so be it. The other need my inner child is asking for is a dog and now that I have the time and love to share, I can address this need too. So mission accomplished, a couple more dreams realized.

Join me on my journey and maybe you too will be inspired to let your inner child out to play – because after all, this IS what life is all about.

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an Artist once he grows up” Pablo Picasso

“The most potent muse of all is our own inner child.” Stephen Nachmanovitch

“The thing is to become a master and in your old age to acquire the courage to do what children did when they first knew nothing.” Henry Miller