I had the opportunity this month to attend an international writers’ conference in beautiful San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.
Both the place and the conference were beyond my hopes and expectations. I had signed up for workshops on memoir and personal narrative rather than poetry, since I have regular poetry classes here, and I came home with so much inspiration and so many great tips that will prove useful in some of my ongoing writing. I love learning things!
Still, I was a bit apprehensive when it was actually time to go, since I was traveling alone to central Mexico with only intermediate Spanish, and I was headed to a huge international conference with serious professional writers, agents, and editors. As it turned out, my intermediate Spanish was adequate in Mexico City to change some money and find my shuttle to San Miguel. And the conference’s 1750 attendees from 15 countries were all manner of writers and book enthusiasts. I fit right in.
At the welcome reception, we were told San Miguel is the city of fallen women … and men, the director added after a beat–haha–due to the ubiquitous cobblestone streets and random protrusions on the sidewalks. The beauty makes you look up.
The sidewalks and streets, however, demand you look down. 
At the hotel where the conference was held, I fell in love with this view.
I decided to try a bit of ink sketching as warm-up for two art classes I’ve since started. I was super nervous about sketching in public, but most people were otherwise occupied. Here’s the first one I did. A few issues, I know, but I’m proud of myself for doing it.
Even when people started showing up for the next thing, no one cared. Most just went on their merry way without a word. Two or three said something complimentary and kept going. Absolutely NON-traumatic, just several hours of unnecessary anxiety, one of my specialties, unfortunately. But maybe I’m learning. The next day I took my small travel sketch journal into el centro and tried a bit of contour drawing of La Parroquia.
Just as I was packing up to head back, this sketch resulted in a delightful conversation in my fumbling Spanish with the abuela who had been sitting next to me on the bench and her family, including a teenaged girl who loves to draw and asked to snap a photo of my sketch. It was a heartwarming moment of connection and felt like a reward for all the hours I’ve spent working on Spanish and, of course, braving sketching in public.
One thing I’m loving about using ink, is there’s no fussy erasing. You concentrate. You do your best. You make your mistakes and you keep going. Here’s wishing you the joy of trying something you’re a little bit afraid of doing. I mean, don’t be crazy, but maybe dance or sing or read a poem at an open mic or even sketch in public. Can’t wait to hear how it goes!
Grace and peace to you and yours, as always!
Choosing this room meant a flight of stairs coming and going, since the elevator stopped at the floor below. Worth it. I even had a bit of a river view. From my balcony it looked like this at night:
Movable Assets 