“Where you feel good, that is where the real wealth is. Where you feel at home, that is the real promise.
Before running elsewhere to look for a beautiful life, let’s make beautiful the one we already have.”

-Faycal K., La Ou On Se Sent Bien

My brother fromanothamother called a few weeks ago, Liz, come throw some paint on a wall with me. We had the same mentor in college, Marc Mannheimer. Marc was the reason both Jeff and I went to graduate school; two kids from two different housing projects and one teacher who saw something in us that would take decades for us to see in ourselves.

I’ve had the rare privilege of following Jeff’s career since the late 90’s when we’d paint till sunrise in the sweltering dorms of Academy Hall at Bradford College. Our undergrad home, a former residence for nuns, now stands as a haunted relic after closing its doors the year we graduated due to embezzlement of the endowment.

Jeff’s talent was obvious from the start. There was no question we were witnessing the birth of something rare and precious. His passion has taken him all over the country, with a growing list of collectors all over the world. So, when he called I was beyond happy to answer.

“I grew up using art as a way to get positive reactions from people”-Jeff Henriquez

The last time I’d seen him was at his gallery opening in St. Pete fifteen years ago. I was rebuilding my life on the Gulf Coast after an apartment fire and subsequent divorce left me standing in ashes with three suitcases to my name. That night we traded stories over shots of Patron alongside roughly sketched outlines on the emerging canvases of our futures. Life would then take him back to his roots in Brooklyn and me 3000 miles in the opposite direction to Bend Oregon.

While I was busy building school-based mental health centers for a county program, Jeff was Sending Love around the world through an image of a pigeon holding a sealed love letter; a central theme at the heart of his life’s work. I remember calling him after he posted the series on the gram utterly obsessed with the symbolism; pigeons are the everyday people of birds, possessing the ability to send love through quiet, intentional presence. As Jeff said they’re “like us, anonymous, beautiful, with attitude problems, fat and happy, grumpy, disheveled, clever, privileged, abandoned, and all with the ability to up and fly away at the next whim. A power we don’t have. How cool it would it be to be like them? To fly away if you want?”

Channeling my inner pigeon, fly away I did, to New Bedford where he’s working on a commission at a community center downtown. Fortunately, this wall is one of his smaller projects. I’m bad at math and scared of heights so it didn’t feel small to me. We were about four stories up? Some of Jeff’s murals tower upwards of 14 stories…too many stories. In life there’s no such thing as either one and while I prefer to be closer to sea level, I welcomed this opportunity to touch the sky.

Thanks to the heatwave we worked through the night, cooled by an ocean breeze scented with jasmine-like flowers neither one of us could ever quiet place. I learned about spray techniques, the variety of caps, the different lines and coverage each nozzle and angle creates, how he grids out walls the size of small countries like a jigsaw puzzle with a million pieces. Flighty assistant, I did my best to support his needs for light, and cans of Nougat, Transparent White, Deep Black, Peach, and the chilled pineapple in the cooler at the back of the worksite, but mostly I was there to witness.

Last summer our alumni tribe lost a beloved sister; she was murdered. We’re still grieving. Since her death, along with countless other personal and collective losses from the too rough, too rowdy ride that was the Year of the Snake, I’ve become much more intentional about sending love however and whenever I can. Yes brother, I want to come hold spray cans with you at 3:33am on July 3rd. So I did.

The trip would’ve been incomplete without a few words of wisdom from my brother, namely his thoughts on love and food, which, much like art, are inherently intertwined. Over tea and walnuts, I chewed on his animated guidance regarding the elusive balance of divine feminine and divine masculine in partnerships and in the universe. How trust and intimacy are inextricably linked. The non-negotiables of our creative processes. How the vibration of who we spend our time with is directly linked to outcomes and as such, boundaries are essential to as ascension. While my own scale may be perceived as slightly off center by some, it would seem that for many of us, the things we pursue when no one is watching are revealed when the sun rises.

I had to tap out a little early on our last night so I could sleep for a couple of hours before the second and final leg of my trip but around 5am I grabbed coffees, muffins and munchkins and headed to the site. Jeff was listening to his French Cooking station on Pandora. Some of us still happen to love the OG streaming dj. He’d made incredible progress working nearly ten hours and was still going; Take Five playing in the background.

Breakfast chatter globe trotted; Spain, France, the importance of natural beauty, having a meaningful work/life balance, a partner to co-create a life rooted in shared purpose, and enough fuel in the forms of love, calories, inspiration, sleep, time and money. The final currency I’ve been grappling with since last year hit me a few months ago…presence.

Pay attention.

Before saying goodbye for what I hope will not be another 15 years, I asked if I could bless him. Yes, I’m crying Jeff. I’m a girl.

May you be safe

May you be happy

May you be free

May you be loved~

In other news, I am tired, grateful, happy, and home. Charlie hates me for leaving but he was a good boy and has been properly spoiled with many treats since I landed. That being said, I’m not opposed to acquiring a private jet as i was nagged the entire trip with this feeling that I’d forgotten something. xo