Life, Art, and Adventure

Nicolina maintains a home-base in New York City's East Village and travels often, spreading her art around the world. She specializes in public art, vibrant murals, collaborative painting projects and interactive performance-art spectacles. Hearts of the World, her ongoing international art project, brings art to underprivileged children who might not otherwise have the opportunity to express themselves creatively. She is also the founder of the Free Art Society, an artist alliance dedicated to shifting the ownership of art out of walled institutions and into the everyday public realm. Go to Nicolina's website: www.NicolinaART.com

[nicolinaart]

The flavor of Manuel Antonio

Manuel Antonio is lush-- a refreshing departure from dusty, hot Jaco. Except, to be honest, to me it looks like an Americanized, tropical, outdoor mall. It’s a very well done tropical mall, I’ll admit-- a perfect parcel of packaged paradise. Gorgeous, exotic flowers line the curvy roads and clean, cool, air-conditioned buildings with smooth, glass storefronts house a variety of polished boutiques and restaurants. I miss a sense of authenticity, even a sense of grit here. 

Perhaps I am just not refined enough to appreciate this place. It boasts one of the most pristine natural parks in the world, and the beaches are gorgeous. They are hidden away from the main drag and when you reach them at the end of a shady walking trail, it feels like you've found a secret beach (except that everyone else found it too). The whole town feels over blanched to me. It's expensive, with droves of U.S. and Canadian tourists, most of whom are older couples (and clearly more sophisticated than I) on vacation. 

I did get excited about El Avión, a restaurant made from an old cargo plane. What an phenomenal idea! And they did it very well, with a bar outfitted inside of the belly of the plane. I had a seat in front of the expansive ocean view, ordered the fish curry…. and soon was reminded of something a gastronomically inclined friend told me once, “You go to the restaurant with a view for the view… if you want good food, go to the restaurant without one… that place that has to try."

El Avión, Manuel Antonio 

How on earth do you screw up fish curry? (By not using any curry)

The view was extraordinary.

Manuel Antonio is beautiful, but it’s still not the Costa Rica that I imagined I would find. I had such soaring hopes before I came. After a couple days here, I feel limp-- like a fish on a plate, gutted of hope, immersed in a savorless sauce. This is my friend’s favorite place in all of Costa Rica. Is there nothing better? Is it just a matter of different tastes?

The view at El Avión

I’m starting to wonder if exploring Costa Rica will miss the mark. Perhaps it is not the country to build the community space of my dreams. I remind myself that Manuel Antonio is worlds different from both Jaco and Playa Hermosa and so, a glimmer of hope that there are destinations in this country that will resonate with me, remains. Dominical, a small surfing town is next. It’s come highly recommended by many people I know. Once again we pack our bags. Onward!

[nicolinaart]

Hello Nicolina, I love this painting. I am starting a blog and would like to know if you sell your art as a graphic? I am interested in purchasing a digital copy of this painting. Thank you, Amy

Hi Amy, thanks for your message. 

Which piece of art in particular are you interested in?

Thanks~

[nicolinaart]

Paving Paradise

I was told by several people that Jaco is the place to go in all of Costa Rica. It’s the closest beach town to the international airport in San Jose. There's swimming, surfing, tropical flora and fauna, many people visit Jaco and it’s growing quickly. I am excited to see what it’s like. I am traveling with my friend Maya, who also loves Jaco. I met Maya six years ago at a bar at the top of a favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. She became a integral part of our painting team for Flutuarte, a 'floating gallery' we created by painting sixty fishing boats in a harbor in the oldest neighborhood in Rio. Maya is a great friend. She is caring, generous, independent, well traveled. She worships the beach.

We arrive and I quickly learn that there’s one dusty, main strip to Jaco beach, and it doesn’t take long to get through it. The center feels blazing hot; cement abounds. There is a smattering of restaurants and bars, and the shops are filled with swimsuits, sarongs, ‘harem pants,’ hammocks and bowls carved out of mango wood. They are the kind of stores that all sort-of feel the same and carry similar products. To its merit, there is a really cool abandoned restaurant at the edge of town, at the top of a lookout, at the end of a shaded hiking trail.

The abandoned restaurant at the edge of Jaco

Maya and I explore a new outdoor development called Jaco Walk, with perfectly poured concrete, polished coffee shops, restaurants, boutiques and fountains. My heart drops. I miss a sense of culture here beyond what feels like a culture of shopping, yoga and surfing. The mall-like feel of Jaco Walk, to me, was a sign I didn’t want to follow into the future. But we look at land around Jaco just to get a feel of what was out there. That’s the reason I’m here after all, to explore the idea of creating a space to facilitate art, music and community in Costa Rica, and it’s all part of the research.

We’ve been in Costa Rica for just a few days now and already, a dulling sense of disappointment and doubt begins to creep into my mind. It feels bad. I can tell immediately that I wouldn’t want to spend more than a week in this beach town… let alone a huge chunk of the rest of my life. If this is one of the most popular places in the country, Is Costa Rica the right location for what I want to create?

I feel reality pouring in through the cracks in my dreams. But hope remains…I've heard from many people that the next stop on our list is lush, beautiful, has incredible beaches and is very different from Jaco. Maya tells me that it’s her favorite place in all of Costa Rica. I feel optimistic as we pack our bags into the hot, sandy car, and begin our trip down the Pacific coast to Manuel Antonio.

[nicolinaart]

Playa Hermosa, Costa Rica

Every morning in Playa Hermosa, Costa Rica, a variety of colorful birds come to hang out in the tall, wiry tree in the front yard. The regulars consist of a jet black bird with a scorching flash of fiery orange wings, the tiny green ones, with their surprisingly loud rhythmic whistles, a yellow-tailed one that stares at me while it flips around on a branch as if it were it’s own swing set, and every now and then the majestic red macaws come to visit. I relish the view from the upper deck of the house. In the mornings, I sit there drinking coffee, waiting for the birds, while melting into the vast blue horizon. I appreciate the feeling I get from all of the open, visual space. In New York this kind of expanse is rare, if it exists at all, and I find that being able to look out on an uncluttered horizon does something to help defrag my mind. Though right now my mind is full of so much jabber that even the smooth open ocean is not enough to bring me tranquility. I feel like I’m decompressing what ten plus years of living in New York has done to my head. This may take time. 

The elusive red macaw on the ‘bird tree’

I feel that I am caught in between two worlds in a way…. I have an ongoing need to work on New York projects and at the same time a need to explore Costa Rica to suss out its potential for a future dream project… a need to work hard and a need to not work.... a need to be moving forward, but a need to be present… a desire to be around friends, but also a subtle but insistent call to find solitude… a wish to explore a romantic relationship in New York, and also a deep desire to explore more of myself without distraction. The paradoxes within me sometimes feel overwhelming and equilibrium feels elusive. A friend once told me, when it comes to life, there’s no such thing as true balance... only balancing. Balance is not a place one finds and stays, it’s an ever-adjusting, active practice. 

Part of me is already feeling somewhat disappointed in Costa Rica, which feels bad. I don’t know what I was expecting, and maybe I was living in a fantasy about what I thought this country would be like. Now don’t get me wrong, Costa is very lovely... but I have yet to think, “YES, this place feels right.” I also know that searching for a location that feels like home in a foreign country needs deep digging, not just surface scratching and I have yet to really dig here. All it really takes is to find the right people… that’s what truly makes a place for me. 

There is a yoga chalet just down the street from the house and I decide that taking classes there could be a good way to get a feel for the community. I will go tomorrow, and there I will work on the ever-adjusting, active practice of balancing. 

[nicolinaart]

The Ants go marching on...

In Costa Rica, I already feel more relaxed, a pressure lifted from me. The kind of pressure that, while in New York, brings me to tell my friends that I have to work, and I don’t have time to come to their dinner party. Here, I feel more freedom to think, to reflect, I feel more space around me and sense more space within me. 

And still, despite this extra space and lightened pressure, I feel the need to work. My friend Maya, who I am traveling with, leaves to go lay out on the beach while I lay out a long list of check boxes for myself. I am not on vacation after all, I am on a mission.   

As I work, a shifty green line on the hill outside of the window catches my eye. My intrigue pulls me closer and soon I am outside, crouched on the ground, fixated on an incessant stream of ants carrying bits of green leaves. They walk fast, hurried… leaves--leaves—leaves... I wonder to myself what the inside of their lair looks like and imagine a massive ant empire, tunnel after chamber, deep within the ground, with viridian clad walls. I am mesmerized by them and like a curious, inconsiderate child, I pick up one of the larger floating leaves, bringing the ant with it. It flails its many legs, and clenches its jaws around that leaf as if it were its ticket to heaven. 

I think to myself, they are in paradise! They have the beach just down the road, there’s a plethora of fruits falling from the sky, and yet they don’t stop marching. Do they all really need to work so hard? Pondering this question, I go back inside to finish my own work and after a few hours of thinking about how hypocritical I am… check—check—check… I think to myself, "Enough of this!” Slowly, I close the lid of my computer and open the door to the outside world, to join my friend at Playa Hermosa, the 'beautiful beach.’ 

[nicolinaart]

Exploring Costa Rica

Each night here I lay awake with my mind in overdrive. Sometimes it takes me hours to fall asleep. I am on the Pacific side of Costa Rica, in Playa Hermosa. The creatures outside have insomnia too. Birds chortle, whistle and caw, howler monkeys roar like prehistoric dinosaurs, the cicadas rev up their wings like they are starting up a jet engine. Wide-eyed, I marvel at how such a small creature can make such a loud noise.

I am here, in Playa Hermosa, Costa Rica

I am here in Costa Rica to explore the possibility of finding tropical land on which to begin building an artist space of sorts. A place where my friends can be together to make art, play music, and find refuge from New York's cold weather and rat race energy. In the past few years I’ve watched so many of my best friends move away, no longer resonating with the concrete jungle. Off they’ve gone to Hawaii, California, Detroit, New Orleans... I understand them. Rent is so high in New York that most people need to work such long hours that there’s little time and energy leftover to spend being with the people that you love. In New York, you often meet for a brief coffee or a drink. In more laid back places like Hawaii, for example, you get together and go to the beach, or on a hike, spending hours together... quality time. New York is rushed, stressed...eye on the prize. But what prize? Making a lot of money? Achieving fame? I already know these things don’t bring happiness, they are bottomless pits and the deeper you go, the more you need. 

So what brings happiness? For me, it’s community; friends I relate to, talk to, play music and make art with. Happiness is peace of mind, freedom, family and friends. 

I am in the research and dreaming stage of this process, I am not yet sure if Costa Rica will be the right place for this idea. It’s my first week here and I am starting to feel it out. And with most things that I get really excited about… my mind is working incessantly on this project, doing overtime, New York style, thinking about what I want to build, where I want to build it, and how it can be done. Tomorrow I will explore Playa Hermosa, I am excited to see this ‘beautiful beach.’

[nicolinaart]

Peru

[nicolinaart]

Dot, Dot, Peru!

Peru! I am here! I've wanted to travel to this country for so long. It is one place that I've felt has called me. Peru is endlessly fascinating with its coast, mountains and jungle, its indigenous cultures, colorful tapestries, unique food, rich and complicated history..... and the mysteries of the Amazon rainforest. I came here on a kind of whim, getting my ticket one week prior to the trip. I'm traveling with my friend, and roommate, Juliet. She is an actor from England and a fellow intrepid. With a spirit of exploration, we are both up for whatever this enchanted country brings us. Our objective is to know Peru as fully as we can in these three weeks, and to invite indigenous communities to participate in the Hearts of the World project. (Http://heartsoftheworld.org) What is in the heart of someone who has spent their entire lives in Amazon? Someone who lives immersed in the wonders of nature-- far removed from the Western world and capitalism? How can we find these communities, who's traditional culture is still intact? Can we avoid the tourist-trap promises of 'authentic Amazonian experiences' and break through to the heart of something real? This spontaneous journey to Peru is what I call a 'connect the dots adventure,' one of my favorite ways to travel. I put the word out to my community on Facebook, asking people for connections in Peru and explaining our intention. Many responded and now with this handful of contacts, we 'dot.....dot...dot....' all the way to our unforeseen destinations, 'playing it by ear,' unfolding the journey as we go. For me, traveling like this is so much more exciting than a fully planned itinerary. We don't know what will happen, where we will end up. We have our objective and we do our best, follow our noses (and our guts), connect with local people as we go, ask them what they know, and we make it happen~ whatever happens.... so here we go! We don't know what the mysteries of Peru will bring us, but the sweet, biting, jungle breeze beckons, and the adventure in our hearts pulls us forward~ . . .

[nicolinaart]

Hearts of the World, East Village, NYC

When was the last time you painted?

The last time you thought about your dreams?

I’d like to invite all of you to the upcoming HotW East Village exhibition and open painting table in Tompkins Square Park, NYC. There, we will share photographs, stories and the artwork from our 8,000 road-mile HotW tour around India.

In addition, we will install a 100 ft table in the center of the park and invite the public to explore their inner worlds and paint a heart, expressing their dreams and aspirations for life.

So if you are in NY, join us, dream, express and come say hello!

The Hearts of the East Village. Tompkins Square Park, NYC, 

Sunday August, 2nd. 1pm - 5pm

[nicolinaart]

This woman greatly inspires me, and her TED talks is one of the best I’ve seen. Visualizing your dream is a really powerful way to begin manifesting it. Sometimes when you try to draw it, things come out of you that you didn’t know were there. It’s a great way to tap into your subconscious, bring it out, and then look at it in front of you. 

Have a look and try it for yourself... draw your future~

[nicolinaart]

Hearts of the World in Print

I am back in NYC getting settled again after our long, winding Hearts of the World India Tour. Here’s a look at some of the newspapers that wrote about our mission to inspire young people to imagine their greatest dreams for life and paint them inside the outline of an anatomically-styled heart. 

Thanks again to Rick Steves our venerable "Travel Guru" and sponsor, to Rachel Precious for organizing a fundraiser for us, to The Lower East Side Girls Club for hosting our benefit, the Monochromatic Costume Ball, to Golden Artist Colors for donating the paint for our tour, and to all of you who supported us and followed our journey.

In the beginning of August, we will host an open Hearts of the World workshop in the center of Tompkins Square Park in NYC. I am excited to explore the dreams of New Yorkers young and old~

[nicolinaart]

INSTANT-BUL

On our way home to NYC from India we have a layover in Turkey. 

The plane lands and we fidget, antsy... waiting for everyone to exit the plane. We have exactly 5 hours; enough time to buy Turkish Visas (30 bucks at the airport), check our bags, buy metro cards and catch a glimpse of the magnificent city of Istanbul. 

We make a beeline for the center of town, buy a roasted corn on the cob and peruse the grounds of the Blue Mosque.

We buy a ticket to Topkapi Palace...

We check the clock and have 15 minutes to get back on the metro to catch our flight in time... at this moment we are standing right next to a restaurant called “Mom’s Kitchen.” We glance at each other and with a knowing nod, I find myself asking the waiter how long it takes them to make a salad plate. They had it out in five minutes. Oh how I wish I had a photo of our meal for you. There was no chance, we ate it so fast. IT IS CRAZY DELICIOUS. Overjoyed, we sop up the last smatterings of sauce with freshly baked bread. We pay, AND we run!

We board the Metro... only 5 minutes late~ with dazzled eyes and happy bellies.

Off to New York City~

[nicolinaart]

Factory of Dreams

During our last week in India, we were invited by Bachpan Bachao Andolan to host one last Hearts of the World program in India with children rescued from bonded child laborer at Mukti Ashram in Delhi.

Many of the kids at the ashram had scars all over their hands from cutting and welding steel wire. Most of the kids I spoke with were very recently rescued from a bindi factory. They were thirsty to learn and very interested in the program, listening earnestly as we explained the HotW project.

Bachpan Bachao Andolan, founded by Nobel Prize laureate Kailash Satyarti has rescued over 80,000 children in India. Mukti Ashram is essentially a holding place, a “sanctuary” for kids rescued from factories etc. before they are returned to their parents or placed in orphanages.

We worked with seventy kids who ranged in age from 11-17. After asking them to write their names on their program sheets I was immediately reminded of the seriousness of their situation. They all sat silent, frozen... no one knew how to write their own name. 

The concept of a dream for life was unheard of to these kids. More so than any I have ever met. It was a completely foreign concept, no one had ever told them they could have a dream. It was very difficult, nearly impossible for them to imagine doing something other than factory work. Some of them had labored in these factories since they were six years old. It’s all they knew. They expected to work like this for their entire lives.

One ten year old boy who was rescued from sixteen hour workdays in a bindi factory (making roughly $1/day) painted little flowers all around his heart. When asked what they were, he said they were bindis. "How about what is inside your heart?" I asked. 

He said, "I don't know yet what is in my heart, but there are no bindis there.”

I cannot show the faces or share the names of of these kids as they need to be protected. But I will tell you that in each of their portraits that we took, there is a hardness, their brows are furrowed, not one of them smiled. They don’t have the eyes of children, but intense eyes like adults who’ve seen years of difficulty and struggle. It was a very emotional day for me. I want to adopt all these kids and give them a fighting chance at life, I want to spend more time with them, but we are leaving tomorrow. They need so much more help to start thinking outside the factory box.

I hope the seeds planted during our program will grow in these kids and that they will dare to dream. It’s difficult days like these that I am reminded of the importance of my own dream to build a Hearts of the World center, a place kids can come for an extended series of workshops to explore their potential and aspirations for life in a safe, encouraging environment... a dream to make possible more dreams~ a “dream factory” run by passionate teachers, where no one labors. 

We are heading back to NYC tonight~ Soon we will share the artwork and dreams of the Hearts of India at a public exhibition in Manhattan.

I will never forget these kids.

[nicolinaart]

The Hearts of India Exhibition

The Hearts of India event-exhibition for me was an exciting three hour blur of color, laughter and art.

After three months in India with 12,000 road km logged, inviting 500+ children from all over the country to imagine and paint their greatest dreams on paper inside a “heart” outline... we finally shared their stories and artwork at a culminating event at Lokayata Art Gallery in Hauz Khas Village, Delhi.

Pankaj and Satbir, our two drivers along the journey with a local kid from Hauz Khas Village

Delhi-ites, local children and people from many countries came and painted a heart at our open painting table. Our Chief Guest, Rakesh Senger, Director of Bachpan Bachao Andolan (Nobel laureate Kailash Satyarti’s anti child labor organization) even painted his heart. As he sat down to paint he said, “Let my heart live!”

It was incredibly gratifying for me to see guests moved to tears as they read the stories of young people from diverse parts of India. 

Rakesh Senger receives his heart to paint

a diverse crowd turned up for the event

Orien making an announcement

Some of you may know that only a few weeks ago I lost my younger brother. He slipped away into the ether at a hospital surrounded by family in Seattle while I was asleep in Northern India. He was my childhood companion and greatest confidant. I was beyond devastated to receive the news. This event has been my solace in all my grief. I have funneled all my sadness into this exhibition, transmogrifying it into happiness for myself and for others into a celebration of life and dreams. 

I want to express my greatest thanks to the Lower East Side Girls Club for hosting our fundraising event in NYC, for Golden Acrylics for donating all the paint for the India Tour and especially, most especially to Rick Steves, my travel guru for making all of this possible. 

Live life to it’s very fullest, you never know how many days you’ll have.

Spread the love, we can all use more of it~

[nicolinaart]

“The Village”

We’re back in Delhi, we’ve moved to Hauz Khas Village for the time being to get ready for the upcoming Hearts of India event.

We moved into an apartment owned by the big boss of HK Village, we call him “Chicken Don Khan...” He runs a chicken restaurant on the DL and caters to the residents of the Village.

Left: “Chicken Don Khan”

Hauz Khas Village otherwise is full of posh restaurants, fancy boutique shops, and bars that cater to a late night modern crowd. “Ladies Night! Ladies Night, free drinks for you....” I hear every evening as we walk home from the gallery as I’m bombarded with flyers.

Maneuvering from one end of the village other brings me through a dramatic world warp in five minutes flat. Half of the place is fancy, modern and expensive and half is real... old village. In the far end of the village, where we’re living, kids run around in little packs, bare foot and half naked squealing and playing together. Men peddle fresh fruits and vegetables in wheel carts and “Chicken Don Khan” sells affordable food to the locals. The other half is trendy and perhaps the most modern place I’ve seen in India. Nearly everyone is dressed up in their western clothes and people are shopping, perusing art galleries, dining, or bar hopping.

Moving in...

Our village.

The Hearts of India event is in just two days now... We are busy... and excited.

[nicolinaart]

“The Hearts of India”

We are back in Delhi! We’ve come full circle, having traveled over 12,000 km over the last three months. Along the way we’ve hosted twelve Hearts of the World workshops, inviting young people to explore their inner worlds through the meditative act of painting. 

Each child painted their unique heart and now it’s time to share their stories and artwork at the upcoming exhibition, “The Hearts of India.”  Free and open to the public.

To all of you in Delhi on June 20th, you are invited to come represent India and paint what's in your heart to be part of the global mosaic of HeartsoftheWorld.org stories. To those of you far away, you can check out the show online on our FB page.

Featuring: -Selections of over 500 "heart paintings" from the India tour -Ice GOLA, Pani Puri and fresh mint lime juices for all -Video screenings by Monkey Projects Studio and HotW -On display, our artistically customized touring vehicle -Afterparty at nearby (A/C) Hauz Khas location until late -aaaaaannnnd CAMEL RIDES!

7-10pm at Lokayata Art Gallery, Hauz Khas Village, Delhi

FB Event Link: goo.gl/L7h5nw

Join us!

[nicolinaart]

Life means all that it ever meant.

Last week I learned from my family on the other side of the world, that my brother, my dearest companion had died. I’ve spun a thousand prayer wheels in his name in Dharamsala. I miss him so much.

I love this bit of writing about death, it was written by a teacher named Henry Scott Holland. It helps. “Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant.”

I will continue to celebrate my brother Tyler’s life in mine. When life is lost its a sharp reminder to live ours fully, to honor it and live it as a tribute to all we cherish.