Kissing in Spain

To kiss or not to kiss is not a very original title and certainly been used by many bloggers and writers alike, but it actually is a serious question when you have decided to pack up and move country or even when visiting friends or loved-ones who have undertaken the expat journey and might introduce you to the locals.

Being a European citizen is interesting in itself with all the different languages, but what might seem normal in one culture can be totally not done in a neighbouring country. Living in Spain comes with its own challenges and to kiss, how to kiss, or not to kiss is one of them. With such an array of nationalities flocking to the Spanish coasts you can easily be forgiven to get rather confused.

I am Dutch and in Holland we do not kiss when we meet someone the first time. A friendly handshake and a smile is a more common way of greeting. However, when you get to the next level and become acquaintances, friends, or are members of the same family, kissing the cheeks will be normal and three is the number of kisses exchanged.

Having been living in Spain for over twelve years I have become used to kissing total strangers when I am presented by someone I know … two kisses are the norm. I usually end up doing the air kiss whilst receiving a wet or not so wet kiss on my cheek. In a business situation the very first meeting might be a handshake, but when you walk out of the door, don’t be surprised to get two kisses as that is what happened to me a few weeks ago when I sealed the deal with a printer in Granada, who I had never met before and who is taking care of the print of my latest book about La Herradura, 'Reflections from La Herradura'. Luckily he was a handsome fellow!

I personally am not sure whether there is an ‘official’ side to start the kissing, but I usually start on the left. This can sometimes be a challenge - especially when presented to an old, more or less toothless goat shepherd - as there is always that fear that we do not start on the same side and end up planting a kiss full on the mouth, followed by awkward laughter and trying not to wipe your mouth too obviously.

I also have a lot of friends and acquaintances from other nationalities, among others many British but also German, Italian, French and

people from Scandinavian countries. The habits of kissing vary as some like to give 4 kisses; some just kiss once, but many people kiss twice, including the Spanish - and it is even common for men in Spain - as it is in many Mediterranean countries - to kiss each other in public when they meet up, and should you visit my home, my enthusiastic dog Choppy will try and greet you with a French kiss… a nice slobbery one.

So kissing in Spain can be an adventure and finding out specific rules and regulations seems to be a hard task. My advice: just go with the flow and see where it leads, or … go for a hug!

Yes a hug, as this is something that seems to become more and more accepted and normal; a hug instead of a kiss when greeting someone you know! In many northern and southern European countries the hand-shake, with or without a kiss, might be preferred on first presentation, but once acquainted, a hug may be part of the greeting. Most of my friends and people I have met several times hug so I get my fair share of body contact. I never really think about the intimate character of pressing my body against the body of another male or female but it is usually a rather pleasant sensation. Curiously, the kiss is not necessarily used when you are hugging someone.

But who cares, in this world of anger, hate, war and so many awful events it is simply nice to hold someone for a few seconds, allowing your heart to greet and connect with the heart of your fellow hugger.

And what has all this to do with living in Spain as an artist I hear you think? Well, nothing really apart from the fact that writing a story is a creative, artistic process!

The two paintings are oil paintings by me. For more information about my art or my books feel free to visit my website: www.renatevannijen.com

And if you like to purchase Reflections from La Herradura, please click here.

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“I can’t paint” he said, and I was going to prove him wrong!

At 7.30 that morning I dragged myself out of bed, still aching from standing on my feet for too many hours the day prior to the painting workshop. A slightly swollen knee and fasciitis plantar suggested I should just put my legs up, but adrenaline kicked in and I went into the kitchen to do some last minute preparation for lunch which was included in the workshop. I whizzed up a tomato and basil paste, mashed a ripe avocado with garlic and lemon and combined soaked dates and raisins with cashew nuts in a blender to then turn them into bite size sweets coated with coconut flakes (try it, it’s delicious). The six beginners, as they explained, rang the doorbell at 10.30, bang on time. They introduced themselves with a handshake to then be greeted by my dog Choppy who does his name proud when visitors come to the house. I was pleased that his attempts to do a bit of French kissing were welcomed with smiles and laughter. I invited my guests into my studio at the back of our house and explained some of the principles of creating a painting. Having given painting classes and workshops for quite a few years I have seen a variety of levels in painting enthusiasts and I know from experience that I can inspire someone to get to their next level and surprise people about their own abilities.

This time I had a group of beginners, six friends from Norway who came for a day of fun and creativity. I like the challenge of teaching beginners. “I can’t paint” said one of the budding artists, but I believe that everybody can paint as everybody can draw a more or less straight line and a more or less perfect circle. Painting is not about perfection but about creativity, observation (if you work from an object, photo or scene) and balance. It is fairly normal, when starting a painting, to encounter feelings of self-doubt and self-criticism. It is hard to believe that those first attempts of colouring the drawing you just created from example; that drawing that you don’t find good enough and don’t really like, could turn into something that can please the eye. But that is where my creativity comes in. I know what will happen as I have seen it before. I love pointing out accidental and not so accidental splashes of colour on the canvas-paper to boost self-believe and hope. I don’t have to pretend, I don’t have to lie, because there is always something done well and where things can be improved I can make suggestions.

Today most of the group used one of my flamenco paintings as an example. Having a group working on the same subject can give interesting results that can then be compared. It is not about exactly copying a painting, it is merely an exercise of observation and then interpreting what you see, within your abilities. The atmosphere was great as everybody was really going for it and nobody even noticed the earthquake that took place whilst we were in this creative flow. Time was forgotten and we enjoyed lunch, which was planned for 13.30, one hour late. I had prepared a large number of vegetarian tapas which went down well and turned out to be a welcoming break. After lunch it was time to put the finishing touches to the works of art and all were pleasantly surprised about their own capability to create a colourful image the very first time they picked up a paint brush. An image that will look pretty nice with a passe-partout in a colourful frame. Self-doubt had turned into enthusiasm, which was really nice for me. Some even want to continue painting as one of the ladies said “I was completely involved in the creative process, I did not think of anything else and that was a very relaxing and nice feeling, I want more of that”.

Their appreciation was meant and felt and that is what made it all worth my while. And the worst self-critic of them all? Well he had created a great, colourful, slightly abstract painting; actually very arty … I had proved him wrong! It fills me with joy when I can inspire people or just give them a nice day where daily worries vanish into a wave of colours, relaxation and fun. We said goodbye with a hug and smiles and after having cleared up the studio and the kitchen I came back into my body, the adrenaline subsided and I suddenly walked like a 90 year old with a severe case of arthritis. Every muscle in my body ached and my legs and feet just wanted to be vertical. However, my heart and soul were filled with satisfaction. The smile on my face told me that I would do it again, and again, and again...

Would you like me to proof you wrong? Would you and a group of friends like to surprise yourselves and discover the artist within whilst enjoying a fun day of creativity in La Herradura on the Spanish Costa Tropical, then feel free to contact me via renate@renatevannijen.com for more details. For more information about my art and books you can visit my website www.renatevannijen.com. If you would like infomation about painting holidays click here and for more information about painting workshops and classes click here

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A Food artist in Spain

What does food have to do with living as an artist in Spain I hear you wonder? Well, I like cooking, I enjoy writing about food, I tend to slightly change recipes that I find online or hear about and I even like to create my own recipes. I think that means that I am creative with food, in other words, I am a food artist. Living in Spain means you have access to wonderful indoor and outdoor markets with an abundance of vegetables and fruits. Needless to say that the produce freshly picked from nearby lands are usually very tasty as they have had plenty of sunshine. My weekly shopping list always includes a colourful palette of fruit and vegies such as tomatoes, cucumbers, papaya, broccoli, and artichokes when in season, and much more. I am in the lucky position to not having to buy avocados, nor quite a few types of fruits as Miguel, my husband, owns a small farm where he commercially grows avocados,

chirimoyas* and nispolas*.
He has also planted a few banana, orange, lemon and mango trees for family consumption only. Great news for a foody, with a preference for healthy foods, like me. However, I do tend to eat more than my body can process. Having inherited a thyroid problem and fat genes instead of money means it certainly is a challenge to keep my body in shape. In fact, I have failed miserably and now that menopause has been added into the mix I often see myself reflected in the shape of a tele tubby, with bingo-wings both above and below the elbow, when passing a shop window. My body is screaming at me with aches and pains as soon as I move and a blood test I took six weeks ago showed that my cholesterol was too high. That and the shrunken clothes in my walk-in wardrobe made me decide to sort myself out. But how? I have never been much of a meat eater and the biggest part of my life I was a vegetarian, and eggs, milky coffees and most of all cheese and yoghurt were part of my diet, more so than carbohydrates and recently I also ate the odd piece of fish. It did not turn my body into a healthy vehicle and meant I had to make a drastic change, so the past six weeks I have spent as a vegan. Although I thoroughly enjoy my smoothie of banana, orange and spinach and cleverly create vegetable spreads and super delicious sweets made of dates, nuts and coconut I now am back in the world of carbohydrates. Potatoes with vegetables or wholemeal bread with home-made humus and crunchy salad leaves, tomatoes and some avocado slices easily replace cheesy pastas. So how come I still have all these aches and pains and am not even slightly going in the direction of being the stick-insect that I perceive most vegans to be? What am I doing wrong? OK it doesn’t help that my aching temple, as some people refer to their body, is rather incapable of doing intensive sport activities, but even so I feel rather frustrated that I haven’t shed some weight at least. I do not want my life to be about food but here I am, writing about it in my blog with yet another resolution to cut out half of my healthy fat consumption and reduce my carbohydrate intake again. And the artistic part of all this? Well, perhaps I have to find a way to get my body back into shape with extreme measures. That does not mean that you have to as well and I still enjoy writing about food. Thus I have decided to share recipes that I have created or heard of and especially loved, over the past twenty years or so, on my new blog. I will add snacks and dishes regularly and you can expect to find quick and easy to make dishes with an Italian or Spanish flavour, original recipes that people eat in their homes and are usually not served in restaurants, as well as dishes you have perhaps heard of and recipes you have never heard of. Feel free to check it out here.
www.renartsworld-food-artist.blogspot.com

• The chirimoya is thought to be a fruit native to some parts of Southern America, but it was then transported to many places including Andalusia in Southern Spain. It has a creamy texture and is very sweet and is often referred to as a custard apple.
• Nispola refers to a Spanish exotic fruit. Nispolas were imported from the Far East in the 18th century grown for the Spanish market. Its flavour is a blend of peach and pear but can be somewhat sharp. It is known as a Japanese medlar pear.

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Gnomes with an opinion

A few years ago on a very hot summer’s day my telephone rang. Hi Renate, how are you says Monica, a German lady who I had met years earlier at an art fair. Monica asks me whether we could meet up, as her partner Gerda had 'been told' that we had to exhibit our work together in a village along the coast. I was curious and the next day I drive down the long winding mountain road to visit the remote cottage tucked away in a sea of green avocado plantations and silver-green olive trees. I turn right into a dirt track which leads to the house of Monica and Gerda and am greeted by big smiles on their round faces. It feels as if I am entering a delusional world and I suddenly think… They are going to eat me! However, I am warmly welcomed by the two very big ‘white witches’ as they call themselves. They are both wearing the same big blue dress without sleeves with a Kangaroo type pocket on the front. Their huge breasts are dangling clearly visible and freely under the thin cotton fabric. It feels soft, hot and humid during the awkwardly long hug. Messy long, grey hair is framing their white, sweaty faces, completing the picture. Makeup doesn’t fit into their world. Gerda looks somewhat wild with her watery blue eyes. They tell me that she is the creative mind and the healer of the two. I am invited into their home, an oasis of calm in a wonderfully warm atmosphere. Everywhere I look I see angels, Tutankhamun replicas, ceramic sculptures and buddha images.

I feel relaxed and at ease. Whilst Monica is giving me a cup of herbal tea Gerda tells me about the gnomes and fairies that are invisible to most people. With a mysterious smile she explains that many think she is crazy, but continues very seriously that gnomes and fairies have told her that it is time for a joint exhibition of my art and their dresses. Monica, who seems to attend to all Gerda’s wishes listens. There is a fairy-tale atmosphere and their strange harmonious relationship seems to work perfectly. Gerda pours me another cup of tea whilst Monica enters the living room with a large number of sweaters, jackets and dresses hand-knitted by her. I am totally amazed when I see the beautiful colours and motifs used. The cardigans and dresses have long pointed hoods that perfectly fit their pyramid-like shape. Gerda then explains that she has received a message from her gnomes to create square dresses. Monica leaves the room to get them and shows me a variety of thin one-size-fits-all square dresses made of thin cotton fabric, beautifully hand-painted by Gerda with colourful symbols and flowers, birds of paradise and Egyptian motifs on the square dresses. They tell me to try one on and I am pleasantly surprised as for someone who never wears a dress I am filled with enthusiasm. I very much admire the work of Monica and Gerda and tell them that I feel their clothing is certainly worthy of an exhibition. They don’t sell their work to the public but Monica and Gerda like to exhibit their dresses and cardigans along with my paintings and ceramic sculptures. It seems like a good plan and I feel optimistic and happy when I drive back home; the exhibition date set.
Two days later my phone rings... I am very sorry Renate, says Monica, unfortunately the gnomes have told Gerda that after all it isn’t the right time for an exhibition
I cannot help but feeling disappointed!

Talking about angels, feel free to check out my designs on environment-friendly tote bags (no more plastic bags floating in the oceans) in RedBubble

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The final chapter…a new chapter!

The final chapter has been approved and this means the end of a year of interviewing, writing and revising stories for my book ‘La Herradura Reflections’. A book that I wanted to write without really knowing why. Curious as this may seem, there was a strong urge within me, an urge born out of curiosity and irritation. I was curious and irritated about the fact that so many interesting cultural things happened in the village where I live, La Herradura, and that I always seemed to hear about it after the event had taken place. Why did I not know about the great flamenco spectacle on the village square, why did I miss the opening of that interesting exhibition? Why did I not know about the live Jazz music in a local café or about the Blues festival? For a part it had to do with my own ignorance of course as most events were publicised on A3 size posters put up on information boards on the sea front and some even mentioned on a big banner waving in the wind between two palm trees on the beach. I have to admit, I am usually busy imagining a story, remembering an adventure, repeating a worrying thought or thinking about my shopping list whilst I make my way through the village, unaware of posters, information boards and banners. But who were these artists that had found their way to this village, why were they here and what inspired them? I knew my own artistic story of coincidence or destiny, depending on one’s view on life, but what about their stories? I decided that I wanted to find out and the idea was born. I was going to write a book. I first created a questionnaire with 24 questions and approached some artist friends. The ball started rolling and every time I interviewed an artist, they gave me the name of several others. My list of artists like writers, dancers, musicians, singers and painters was so long that I had to create some conditions. I decided that all foreign artists had to live in La Herradura for longer periods every year and be more or less full-time artists with no other job on the side and that the Spanish artists had to either live in the village or have a house or studio in La Herradura. Whilst I was interviewing the format of the book took shape. I wanted to share the fascinating village history and evolution and give voice to some interesting characters and organisers of cultural events as well. Each story would have a description of the village, taking the reader on a journey through its streets and nearby mountains and giving a peek into the minds of the artists. Little did I know what I had taken on. It wasn’t the first time I had written a book in a similar format, interviewing people to then write their experiences in a story-telling way in the first or third person. For my book Cheers I interviewed partners, children and friends of people with an alcohol addiction and also alcoholics and healthcare workers, to show the human side of this world-wide problem and to help those affected by it to find a way out of their situation of isolation and despair. All interviewees read and approved their story before publishing, but remained anonymous. I wrote and published the book within a period of five months. My La Herradura book is a different story, possibly because it isn’t anonymous, but it has been an amazing journey. Most interviews took place in the privacy of my living room. No doubt the coming and going of predominantly men of all sizes, shapes and ages, entering our front door whilst my Spanish husband was out working, raised some eye brows and gave the housewives in the neighbourhood some interesting gossip material. I met most of the artists for the first time at my front door and it was fascinating to hear their reasons for coming to La Herradura. They explained how they found it, why they decided to stay and how the village inspired them. I felt inspired by their stories and amazed about the interesting facts that I learned on the way about flamenco, archaeology and much more. The stories almost wrote themselves and apart from a few minor tweaks most interviewees were happy to approve their stories. I felt it was all flowing really well. I always write in English but I had decided that this book also needed a Spanish version since it is taking place in and talking about a Spanish village, so every time I finished a story it went to my translator. I feel lucky to have found someone bilingual who was willing to do the translation in exchange for one of my larger paintings. During my year working on this book I had no other income and no budget for translators or proof readers so I feel blessed and grateful that they love my artwork so much that they are happy to do the work, and it is a lot of work, for a painting instead of money. After the translation and a quick proof by one of my Spanish family members the story went to the Spanish language artists in question. The word mañana suddenly showed its full potential. I am Dutch but not having lived in my country of birth for over sixteen years means that I do not consider myself very Dutch anymore, however, punctuality and sticking to appointments and promises are pretty much ingrained into my system. In those cases that I have become a bit negligent and fail to do as I said I feel bad and ashamed. I also don’t like to bother people and the fact that I had to remind some of the artists numerous times to read and possibly tweak and approve their stories made me feel hugely uncomfortable. It was very obvious to me that they were unaware of this as most of them were ever so sweet and complimentary about my representation of their experience, but there were also moments I felt I had to tiptoe through a mind-field and keep my Dutch direct to an absolute minimum in order to keep some egos happy. This chapter is now closed and I can relax. It feels great that the last story has been checked and approved and now in the hands of my Spanish and English proof readers who are taking care of the final grammar checks before it can be prepared for print and the launch in this coming spring. A new chapter in my life is about to start. One of spreading the word, getting it to the reader and most of all, let it go, as my next book is already taking shape in my head when I walk through the streets of my home village of La Herradura, totally unaware of the posters and banners announcing yet another interesting cultural event.

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Happy New Year

And now it is 2016 and I survived the Spanish festivities. I managed to stuff the 12 grapes in my mouth on every last second of the year, twelve in total, which made it rather hard to give my husband a romantic Happy New Year’s kiss with both our cheeks full of grapes, looking like a pair of happy hamsters, but they were soon washed down with former grapes better known as ‘bubbles’. The first of January was a day of laziness which included not wanting to prepare our lunch. In Andalusia most people have their main meal at lunch time, which is usually somewhere between two and three o’clock. I have happily adapted to this habit and as an artist I can decide on my own timetable so that is not a problem. My Spanish husband is absolutely perfect as he is a near obsessive cleaning disorder gentleman with the emphasis on gentleman. He says that I am not good at cleaning and he is probably right, my disorder is being disorderly. I am not allowed to clean, he does that, but I take care of the laundry, setting up and taking down the Christmas tree, and cooking, lots of cooking, two times a day. Well the main meal at lunch and the evening usually an egg variety, a salad and fruit or some bread with an orange with a tiny bit of salt and extra virgin olive oil for example. Don’t laugh, try it, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Good thing I love cooking and he loves eating it. But this first of January I felt like a day off as far as my cooking duties were concerned and I also decided to postpone my healthy eating, no carbs, and no sugar New Year’s resolution for a few days. So off we went for a Chinese meal in the village. Unfortunately I forgot to take a stomach protector which I do need when eating fried food. Delicious as it was I nearly choked that night on my own acid reflux with a strong spring roll flavour and had to sleep sitting up the rest of the night out of fear the acid would come up again during my stay in dreamland. Not good. Luckily my time had not yet come and today is the last day of a rather long winter festivities period, Three Kings Day, a national holiday and very much celebrated in Spain. Last night, on the 5th of January we went out to marvel at the spectacle. The relatively small village of La Herradura is suddenly heaving with life. Mostly villagers and their families. Several beautifully dressed up carnival type wagons are slowly rolling along the sea-front, filled with people in colourful costumes. Three wagons carry the three Kings and their wives. Plastic footballs and lots of unhealthy, brightly coloured sweets wrapped in plastic are thrown into the crowd, creating a buzz amongst the children who collect as many as they can. In between the wagons there are groups of local children, from the very small to teenagers, dressed up in a specific theme and dancing to very loud music to the amusement of the spectators. Three Kings Day is the most important children’s ‘fiesta’ in this Mediterranean country. Although Father Christmas is now also commercially very much present in Spain, no doubt to the kid’s content as this means double ‘pressies’, Three Kings Day is the main event where children get their gifts. Around 19.30, the parade arrives at the main square and the Kings and their wives sit down on chairs on the stage. Gifts wrapped in shiny paper with big bows, previously handed in by the parents, are stacked in the background of the stage. One packet at a time is handed to one of the Kings and the name on the present is called out, the happy child comes up to the stage, receives the gift, gives the King a kiss to then rush off again into the save arms of mum or dad, all beaming with pride and happiness. Today is just a relaxed Day, all the shops are closed and children are playing with their new gifts. Tomorrow normal school life starts again. The New Year can truly begin. Mine as well. I am full of positive plans and with great hopes for this exciting upcoming year. Spring rolls are not on the menu anymore, but, drumroll, there is a spring in my step now that I have overcome the last hurdles in the process of writing my latest book, La Herradura Reflections. That’s it … you’ve heard it here first. 2015 was a year filled with interviews, investigation, writing stories, getting them translated, proofread and approved. The final result is a unique combination of guide book, history book and biography rolled into one in which you get a privileged, ‘behind the scenes’ look at life in La Herradura, and a fascinating glimpse into the minds of its artists and visionaries who live or work in this seaside village I now call my home. The book will be published in spring both in English and in Spanish. As usual the cover will be one of my paintings. Actually, this one!

Bring it on 2016 as I have every intention to make this a very happy New Year! Would you like to be kept informed about my books and my art news? Send me an email to renate@renatevannijen.com and I will add you to the list. All my books are for sale on Amazon!

Adventures in Spain

Via this blog I will keep you informed about my life as an artist and writer in Andalusia in Southern Spain. What can you expect of me? Observations, real life stories and light-hearted stories with a touch of fiction. There will be some photos of my surroundings, my house, the village where I live but also of my art, my books and mandalas. If you would like to find out more about my art and books please visit my website: www.renatevannijen.com