Hope swimming in concrete
Healing arts, playing with other experience animals in London
Exactly a week ago I was sitting in a corner of a crowded conference hall, headphones on, listening to a playlist I made to get into the zone before my talk.
My talk was a 30-minute comprehensive deep dive into all that I’m doing for AMARIMA. Where I’m at right now, and how I’m going about building this new company, how I’m approaching my deeply immersive and sensory experiential design, how I’m partnering together with clients, this hotel I’m bringing to life, my mission these days.
It wasn’t recorded. I will however link you my slides here for the next 24 hours.
Let me know what you think.
I was even able to work in one of my favorite pieces of art that I saw when I was eighteen to emphasize the point that life is a collection of incredible experiences.
”The Tomb of the Diver, now in the museum at Paestum, Italy, is a frescoed tomb that dates to around 500 to 475 BCE, and is famous for the mysterious subject matter of the ceiling fresco, a lone diver leaping into a pool of water.” - Wiki
The conclusion of my talk was that - when done right - experience-driven hospitality is a healing art. One that we all desperately need more of these days, in this world.
For me, being at a week-long event dedicated to people who design all sorts of experiences was a healing space.
As you all well know by now, I’ve always been a lot of different things at once.
In this space, for an entire week, I found myself around people who cared just as much about my poems and sculptures as they did about AMARIMA.
It absolutely blew my mind - that in the same conversation where I was talking about a potential six figure project, people huddled around my phone photos of my sculptures, while I talked about the composition of the clay that I use being part sand, and how it smells like the sea.
That this artist part of me is just as relevant to those conversations as the one who can parse an earnings call or a P&L.
That it’s the secret sauce behind AMARIMA - the source code of the healing art that I do.
How when, in conversation about planning a beyond-kick-ass pop up experience, or taking a client call to the side during one of the days, I watched potential collaborators and current clients read through poetry I wrote, specifically for those projects.
It’s an intense experience, being seen.
Feeling safe to be as big as you are.
I thought this was something I already understood about myself.
But somehow seeing it in action, being surrounded by artists for an entire week, having someone I just met quite seriously tell me “I know who you are. You are a creative powerhouse,” absolutely broke me in the best way.
I really thought this was something that I already understood about myself.
If we could, if we had the power to look at our lives as experiential playgrounds, how would we live them?
If we recognized that each moment we have someone captive with us, in our presence, in our group, in our space, is a brief and shining moment in time where we have the power to share the unique and gorgeous way we see the world, how would we alter that time spent so that it’s the most meaningful, a gift, for them?
If we all were as in touch with our own creativity as these artists who I had the opportunity to spend time with last week, how would we show up for our people?
How would we show up for ourselves?
Last week I gave one of the first real comprehensive deep dives into the world I’m creating with AMARIMA, these experiences that I’m designing and this very different kind of hotel brand that I’m starting, and it went extraordinarily well.
I spent time with amazing, deeply thoughtful and intentional people who create worlds for other people to discover and play in for a living.
They are all doing this successfully in today’s supremely fucked up world.
We swam in music. Chatted until our voices went hoarse. Hid in corners at bars. Investigated behavioral science. Married ourselves. Cross-examined strangers. Wrote wishes on pieces of wood. Huddled around portfolios. Kissed dogs. Followed tree roots.
Back in Barcelona, my phone’s been blowing up with LinkedIn recap posts that I’ve been tagged in, messages scheduling Zooms with my new friends.
And I’ve wanted to write a recap of my own. I’ve wanted an easy way to describe the bubble that I found myself in last week, and what it meant to me precisely now, at this point in my life, and what I’ve been trying to do.
To hypothesize about all the amazing things that will come from last week.
I don’t have one, really.
But I did write this early Friday morning while I was exhausted and waiting at Gatwick for my plane to board, and it pretty much captures it:
Key me in
Cider and roses
I’ll linger near the shoes -
climb the stairs at 3
I’m the ghost, your jewel
glinting in the sunlight
The DJ behind the decks
That muse you’re scared of
“What do you feel?”
Everything, everything -
I’m the smoke curling around your ear
The missing bass for this song
sunlight dancing around the alley
That delayed spicy kick -
I am your
hope
as it swims
in concrete
Everything, everything
Call me the elevator angel -
That one
extra artist in Shoreditch
Poured and smiling -
your lioness blinking at
the gate
You are my hope swimming in concrete.
and with AMARIMA I am, as always, and especially these days as I’m building a book of clients, at your service.
Jenna
