Love Is (2007)

In July, I displayed "How to Find Love without Losing Hope" at Casa Gongora, the oldest house in Panama (built in 1756).

The two-level mansion has high ceilings, a small courtyard, and long balconies, which wrap around the second floor's stretch of large double doors. The mayor's office restored the building and reserved it as a space to showcase Panamanian art and culture.

The first person to arrive to the closing reception/artist talk was a student in his last year of architecture school. As we sat waiting for others to arrive he asked, "Do you feel that?"
"What?" I asked.

"The house is built on these little wheels" he replied "It was built to resist tremors. So it rolls, slightly, when the ground shakes in any way. When the cars or trucks pass, you can feel the floor shift."

This new information explained the mild seasickness I felt at times in this building. On occasion it seems like the world was tipping, ever so slightly.

People trickled in slowly, the majority of them arrived about 30 minutes late (right on time).

In an effort to create an atmosphere that will allow for an open dialogue centered on love, I stood in the center of the circle of chairs, with a large bag of chocolate, and wondered out loud:

"I brought chocolate," (Someone yelled, "to bribe us") "not only to bribe you, but because it is said that it is the chemical equivalent of love, and because it is interesting how if you meet someone and right away you give them chocolate they are grateful, but if right away you give them love, they are... sometimes... terrified."

"I want to know what love is for you. Tell us a love story, or tell us that you believe or don't believe in love, share your perception of love..."

This turned out to be a lovely time.

The dialogue switched seamlessly back and forth between English and Spanish. I began by telling the story of two of my friends: Elvia and Martha (la otra Marta). It is the story of two leaps of faith, and a journey to Austria to meet love.

Cleveland spoke of healthy love: the love that empowers you to create and build.

A friend of Cleveland's, explained that Cleveland and I knew each other when we met. He said we loved each other immediately, because we've always known each other. "Love" he claimed "bridges time and space and place. It is possible that all moments exist simultaneously, all things happening at once, and that you have known each other before and always."

People began to speak of divine love, of self-love, of loving love.  One young woman excitedly described why she loves love: "Love is a word that is a verb and a noun." She listed all the things she loves loving "I love to dance love, to read love, to love..."

There was Lee Love, who introduced herself and added, "Really, that is my name. I married Mr. Love." And Lee's cousin Vida, whose name means beloved in English and life in Spanish. They spoke of a love for travel, family love, loving each individual as they are, and never letting a moment pass to say "I love you."

One gentleman described falling in love with the woman who came to dress a wound on his back he couldn't reach. This woman, a stranger, a friend of friends, would gingerly change his bandages twice a day: first thing in the morning, last thing at night. "Now," he steadily declared, "We are married, and I would do anything for her."

As my friend, who has a one year old son, began to speak, her eyes filled with tears. She reported that the intense love she can speak of is the one she is experiencing now, a parent's love: her parent's love for her, her love for her child. "I cannot find the words to express... the feeling of it" she said.

My sister-in-law, who glows with self-love, described discovering its importance. She said "I learned the most about love when I was the furthest from it: When I moved to the states for school, and I was away from everyone and everything I knew, everyone and everything I loved."

Two or three people were overwhelmed with the enormity of the question: "Love is everything," "It is immense," and "it is all things" followed by shrugs, and silence.

My dad spoke of 30 years of marriage, and recommended the experience of being a father. Meanwhile, my mom affirmed, "I am learning more about love everyday, and that is surprising... Love is surprising."

A young woman spoke of finding love everywhere "I believe there is love in all living creatures," she explained "and maybe even in some inanimate objects, like rocks. I can identify with rocks. For a long time I was a rock. Cold, distant and unfeeling, but now... now I am a different person."

A college student told the story of the day her father was kidnapped for two hours before being returned to her family unharmed. "From this experience," she asserted, "I learned to love each moment, and to never let a moment go by without appreciating the people around me."

Hearing all these experiences and expressions of love reminded me that to love (ourselves and others) is a choice. It is a brave choice.

For me loving is a choice that overpowers the negative experiences in my life. My ability to continue to love, to trust, and believe in people propels me beyond the reach of anyone who has tried to harm me.

And the most magical part is this: I find myself part of a community of people who are unafraid to love me back. Our hearts are built on tiny little wheels, adapted to withstand heartache. It's not that we haven't experienced the turbulence of betrayal. It's just that we haven't let it shatter us.

Essentially, we recycle love. Love flows in all directions, freely and abundantly, and we shift with the occasional disturbance, but are never rocked off our foundation.

This is what love is. It is an ancient house built on wheels.