Writing at the Fundacion Valparaiso in Mojacar, Spain

„…and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.“ Mary Oliver

I am home from my first writing residency with other artists. In Herekeke, three years ago, I was alone with Miss Lilly and my endlessly talkative mind. There were also the mesa, the sunsets, the New Mexico sky, the silence and wonderful Peggy Chan, who came by once a day. She offers this perfect place for artists, and I will be forever grateful to her. The conversations we had, resonate until today within me. It was the most fantastic time, I was given there, and the more my time in Spain approached, I pondered second thoughts: Should I go? Could I have a time like in Herekeke somewhere else, with other people? It seemed unlikely.

When I left the airport in Almeria with my rental car, I was stunned to find, that the andalusian landscape is so much like New Mexico. Even better, because, it has an ocean too. I drove to Mojacar and to the FundacionValparaiso and I could not stop smiling.

The beautiful spanish adobe Style house was in ruins, an old olive mill, when Paul and Beatrice Beckett bought it many years ago. They bought it, to do a neighbor a favour, without any plan for what to do with it. There is a mountain right behind the house and grounds, on which the old Mojacar used to be undreds of years ago. Anyway, the entire area an eldorado for archaelogists. On the grounds of the Fundacion, they found remnants of six earlier civilizations, who had settled there, going back to the neolithicum. So, rebuilding anything was a fragile and not so easy endeavour.

After some years, Paul and Beatrice decided, they wanted to start a foundation for artists of all kinds. So, they began to renovate the old mill and built around it a new house, with the help of a danish architect. And boy, did they do a good job! They cultivated the garden and the first residents moved in 1992.

Paul died in 1994, but Beatrice Beckett is still very much alive. 90 years old, she lives close to the foundation and she visitited us several times. When I said goodbye last Wednesday, I thought: I will miss her. She is one of the most inspiring people I ever met. I want to see her all the time. While I was there, I took out one of the 3000 books of the library, Mary Olivers‘ Thirst. Among many many other beautiful lines I found this one „My work is loving the world“, which to me became the perfect description of what I thought, every artist does, but also, what Beatrice does for artists and the arts. She creates a free and very open space, in which you can find yourself and many many miracles. I will be forever grateful for her generosity and keep her in my heart.

With me, three other artists shared the time in Mojacar: the australian weaver and painter Elizabeth Jeneid, the lithuanian poet and translator Laurynas Katkus and the spanish sculptor and artist Roberto Urbano.

I must admit, that in the beginning I was like: Oh god, other people. Really? I told my daughter, that I was not happy about the social aspect. I am more like a hermit, when it comes to my writing and I felt, what I really needed, was time to dive deep. The daughter suggested, I should just take the evening wine (which was offered every night generously!!!) to my room and pretend, I was the crazy poet. I did that several times, I also left my door closed and sneaked out for solitary walks often. Until I found, that the others were just like me. They all loved to work, they all loved to be alone and the degree of concentration, that was tangible everywhere, was extremely accelarating for my own creative process.

So from day one on, I was at my desk for hours. What was the project, I had brought with me? It was a manuscript of 7-800 pages, which I had written during the past 6-7 years. A manuscript fed by the process of my separation and divorce, as well as by the move to the right wing political spectrum, that was visible all over the planet and scared me to death. The fear, that my world, the world I knew, would vanish into hatred, racism and bigotry. Why those two subjects in one manuscript, you probably ask? Well, very simple, because the ex-husband turned openly towards that spectrum, when the separation started. Or I noticed it than. He probably sympathized earlier, but the refugee crisis and all this brought it to the surface. He did not keep quiet, but told his view of the world proud like a teenager to everybody, on Facebook.

So, the abyss I felt threatening the world, was right at home, within my four walls, went through my family, very active, and coloured the process of separation more than anything else. The wish, to separate as friends, for the children, and his behaviour became my inner battleground.

There were so many negative feelings, from hatred, disgust, fear, humiliation, anger, pain, I never knew, I could feel so deep, that there was so much pain in me. Looking back, I am grateful to him for giving me the opportunity to process all these feelings, because I think, that we all have to face our Siberia one way or the other in order to open up and find ourselves. This path of separation and trying to understand, what was happening and not flinching away from any pain, but going right through it, was my Siberia and i wrote everything down. Almost 800 pages. Consequently, this manuscript is not exactly a piece of sunshine. Consequently, after about 9 days reading and deleting away for 6 hours, my mood became darker and darker. I was in perfect Andalusia and hated myself, my writing, my life. 

But to know, that Laurynas was next door, translating some lithuanian jewish poet, that Roberto was on the other side of my balcony, thinking up some philosophical problem to translate into a sculpture, to see Liz going into her studio every day from my window, it helped me so immensely to not run away, but go through the manuscript over and over. To read your own words can be so embarrassing. 

There was also the mountain, I climbed it a lot, talking to myself and getting lost in the endless views. There is also the ocean. Wild and wonderful. We went swimming. The waves tossed me around, just like life, and it was actually fine.

I finished editing after 10 days. I knew, there was still so much work ahead of me. I want to burn it down to 150 concentrated pages, which would tell the whole story. I still have 500 pages. But I knew, I would not be able to do this in Mojacar. Time was precious, and this was the past. Now, the subject was: creating something to reach into my future, artistically and as a person.

I spent one day walking the mountain, taking many siestas on my bed, and reading Mary Oliver of course.

We were to present something on Mondaynight. Laurynas joked, that I should just read the pages, I had deleted, in german, so nobody would understand and nobody would have to present but me, because my presentation would last until Tuesday. We found that hilarious for a moment.

On Saturday, I started to listen to music, mainly to this song.

I do not know, how it exactly worked, but this song cracked me open: I listened to it, while writing little words, while dancing, while walking, while climbing the mountain, while going through the olive grove, meeting a real turtle and collecting shards and bits from the past of six civilizations, which are all within me. I walk on my past, the personal one, but also the human past in a general sense. Which is so important to never forget, while looking at all those people drifting to the ultra right. There is a big picture, and it might just not be very flattering for mankind.

I started to ponder two questions: 1. What did I learn here? 2. What did I find here?

I started to collect the answers, "It is only by a courageous letting go that your heart truly becomes free #JackKornfield", free writing at first. „Toda es un poema“ Then I walked over to Liz‘ studio and asked her for glue and paper. „ti cara es el cielo“ I started to write the words, that came to me, on this paper. „Die Vergangenheit ist unsere Basis“ I glued the shards, the sand, the green glass, „un vidrio roto verde“ flowers I had found, on to it. „We are lost in thoughts as if they were real #JackKornfield again“ „the past is our underground, we walk on it“ I walked over to Roberto and I asked him for colours and more glue. „La fragilidad“ I started drawing „mi cara es una nube“ and painting and it became a collage, like a mind map almost. It also became a poem. „and than we met the lithuanian wedding party at the Torre del Penon“.

was ich hier lerne, qué yo aprendo aqui, what i learn here (link to the poem I wrote)

The collage had to remain in Spain. I could not transport it in my Ryanair Priority handluggage.

But here is a photo. 

What I found in Fundacion Valparaiso? I found, how thoroughly I can set myself free through art and being myself. I found, that art is much more, it is loving myself and as a consequence loving this world. Never cease to trust in the process. Love and beauty will unfold, if you stay focused. 

Todo es un milagro.

Todo milagro es un explosíon.

Nada queba como estaba.

With so many thanks to my partners in crime, Roberto, Laurynas and Liz, without whom this experience never could have happened. How wonderful, that karma has put us together in this space for this short time. For me, it was a life changer. I hope, it was good for all of you.

Love forever

Susanne

P.S: Yesterday, I started reading Laurynas essay Moskauer Pelmeni, in German. Its been published in the Leipziger Literaturverlag and it is really really good! Read it!

(c) Susanne Becker