Amongst the Azulejos

In the summer of ‘22 I continued my wanderlust in the pursuit of… Identity? Adventure? Distraction? All I knew was Portugal called to me. But I underestimated what I would discover- the beauty of the country, the art inextricable from the architecture, the pockets of solace in the parks scattered around every corner, the tucked away parts of the city… and myself.

I fell in love with the azulejos- the tiles and mosaics that covered almost every surface that were at the same time so common and so extraordinary.

I found a “paint your own” class conveniently next to the Azulejo museum. I learned about their purpose and practicality to both retain heat within and cool off a home, all depending on the season. How they were used to breathe life back into the city following great tragedy- the massive earthquake that shook the country viciously, so many beautiful facades and foundations reduced to rubble.

What was remarkable to me was that the same pigment was used to create both the dark and the light blue hues. It all came down to how much water was mixed with the brush. This stark contrast of color came from the same source.

I became frustrated not being able to consistently produce the same result, to find the same mixture and color.

It was almost a metaphor for my own life at that time, desperately trying to find the balance of exploring who I wanted to be and processing the end of a relationship that gave my life so much expression. Yet one in which I mixed too hard and watered myself down. The ending of which shook me to my core.

It was all hot and cold. Foundational and fragile. Beautiful and broken.

That great love is a piece of art I frequently visit- I’ll look at it and wonder, could I have just mixed it up? Added more? Taken away less?

In the end, I choose to remember those seasons of my life design for both their beauty and practicality. Adding intense color and forming so much of my internal structure.

Despite great tragedy, beauty remains.