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Moving Pieces...

Updated: Jan 23, 2019

I want to share something with you.  

I had a PROFOUND experience looking at an art exhibit.  Something I never imagined myself saying, however, I NEED to share it.  

I’ve never professed to be ‘cultured’  - and while I DO have an appreciation for the arts, it’s generally reserved for MY personal lane - dance/performing arts.  I’ve never been one for truly getting the most out of art gallery experiences, although I DO love me some abstract art from time to time.  

It was by complete fluke that I ended up wandering through YET another massive mall in Manila, in search of some exercise, and vittles to take home for dinner when I happened upon an art installation set in the middle of the Shangri La Mall.  

I would normally just keep on walking, but something made me turn in, and look more closely.

The small little 3 walled area contained 3 items.

A typewriter on a pedestal - with the characters removed,  a framed piece of newsprint with every line of text painstakingly cut out with an exacto knife, and a grouping of 6 or so photos, framed, and matted, but each picture turned around, so only the back was visible.

At first glance,  thought maybe it was an error - or that there was something ‘more’ to see… but then upon reading the artists words, i realized….this was the art.  

Something inside of me was DEEPLY impacted in that moment...and there, all alone on a Friday night, in the middle of a mega mall, I wept.   I cried big, unstoppable crocodile tears...and even a few audible whimpers. There was something so haunting, and so raw about this work, I couldn’t help but respond.  

Within a moment, one of the men attending the exhibit noticed my tears,and hurried over to ensure i was ok.  ‘It’s ok madam, please don’t cry!! Is everything ok? Can I help you?” He inquired with concern. I waved him off sheepishly, saying, “it’s just this art’  i took him a moment to understand, and then he was INSISTENT on getting my photo, tears and all with the exhibit. In the moment, I was probably less than enthused, but now, I am SO grateful for these photos. Capturing a moment in time that truly moved me.

Insert big, unstoppable tears...

I moved on after that, still feeling a little fragile of spirit.  I packed up my things that evening, and left for the airport in the wee hours, to catch my flight to Bali.  I knew that I wanted to write about this, but also wanted to leave it until I got home and had some time to reflect.  

I am so grateful for all the little happy accidents, circumstances, and ways that we are put in the way of experiences.

 I am working to become more mindful, and pay attention to these little nudges, and to appreciate all the lessons that come along with them.

I realize more and more each day that absolutely none of this is coincidence.   We are given SO many opportunities to learn and grow, but it’s up to us to receive the lessons.

So for whatever reason, Bea Camacho felt compelled to make this art...and it ended up on display in a mall, in the Philippines, where I happened to be cruising around, trying to decide between Sisig and Pad Thai (the latter won out) and stumbled upon it, and I KNOW that i was one of the people MEANT to see it.  To experience it.

Bea,  keep on making this art of yours...I’ll be following.  


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