Jamaican Artist Laura Facey’s Spiritual Voyage

Trish Perkins of Tropical Escapes arranged some lovely excursions for the creative writing and yoga retreat I attended, including a visit to Jamaican artist Laura Facey’s home and studio.

Artist Laura Facey describes the spiritual side of her work.

It’s always a treat to be invited into a working artist’s home, to get to meet the artist in the space where they live and create. Facey and her husband reside on a farm estate called Mount Plenty, a place that’s bountiful with tropical color and nature.

Slim and unassuming in a pair of denim overalls, Facey welcomed our group with a tour of her house, which doubles as a gallery — glorious sculptures and multi-media works take center stage in the living room, family room, dining room and even in the guest bedrooms.

Songs of Freedom

Facey is best known for her sculpture, “Redemption Song,” a monument in Kingston’s Emancipation Park. The 11-foot bronze sculpture consists of naked black male and female statues emerging from the water of a fountain and gazing to the skies. The piece is symbolic of Africans’ triumphant rise from slavery. “The water is refreshing, purifying and symbolically washes away the pain and suffering of the past,” says Facey.

“Redemption Song” sculpture in Emancipation Park

Her sculpture was inspired by the words of Marcus Garvey: “Free yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our mind.” Those words were popularized by singer Bob Marley in “The Redemption Song,” which gave the statue its name.

Kingston’s Emancipation Park commemorates August 1, 1838, the day Parliament freed all enslaved people in Jamaica.

Yet there’s controversy over Facey’s “Redemption Song,” in part due to the nudity — which some Jamaicans feel is overly sexual. Others claim the woman’s face displays European features.

The cedar “Peaks” or “Horns” sculpture is in a bedroom at the artist’s house.

Facey says: “Some people think I was the wrong gender, race and class to be the artist chosen for such a prominent piece of public art.” However, this eighth-generation Jamaican points out that her work was chosen in a blind selection process: no one on the committee knew the identity of the artists who submitted pieces.

Facey shut out the brouhaha over the 2003 installation of the sculpture by working more and more intently. “As an artist, you just have to keep creating and don’t pay attention to criticism.”

In her studio, Facey explains the origins of “Their Spirits Gone Before Them.”

The piece that she considers her most significant work has some roots in the “Redemption Song” controversy. She placed miniatures of that piece,  originally meant to be souvenirs, inside a canoe carved from a cottonwood tree.

Reminiscent of a slave ship, the canoe floats on a sea of sugar cane, a symbol of the slave-powered industry. The result is “Their Spirits Gone Before Them.”

Swimming in the White River

After learning about Facey’s creative vision, our group changed into bathing suits and hiked down a steep ravine to the White River, so named because the limestone rocks give the water a white, milky color. This place is so deep in the jungle that you can’t see the sun — a magical spot for a cool swim. Facey came too, and she hiked the rocky trail in bare feet. “This is my reflexology,” she says, adding that she comes down here almost daily for creative refreshment.

She waded in and demonstrated a rope for swinging over the water and dropping into a deep pool. In some spots, the river’s current is so swift you have to paddle hard upstream just to stay in one place. Or you can find a less swift passage, then catch the current and let it shoot you downstream 40 yards or so.

Jacqueline swims in the cool, milky water of the White River.

To cap off the afternoon, Facey served fresh ginger tea with banana bread and ginger-bread. We admired more of her exquisite wood sculptures as we enjoyed her baking talents.

To see more art, visit Laura Facey’s website.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Read more about my travels in Jamaica:

Creativity Blooms at a Writing/Yoga Retreat in Jamaica

Eileen balances in Tree Pose beneath the flowering trees at Bromley.

A late-March blizzard began to blanket Colorado in snow as I left Boulder for the airport. Luckily I was on my way to Jamaica for a weeklong creative writing and yoga retreat.

Goodbye brown, leafless trees; hello bougainvillea.

The retreat was led by two writers/yogis, Jacqueline Sheehan and Celia Jeffries and was organized by Patricia Perkins of Tropical Escapes.

Our headquarters for the week was Bromley, a historic cattle estate house in the hills about half-an-hour’s drive away from the beach and cruise-ship-port town of Ocho Rios.

Far away from that crowded scene, Bromley feels like a dignified matron from a bygone century. In fact, the stately 17th- and 18th-century house is built on the foundations of a 16-century Spanish stone fort, so she’s seen a lot of comings and goings since Europeans first came to Jamaica.

Even the name, Bromley, evokes the romance of a Victorian novel.

Bromley perches on a hilltop overlooking the village of Walkerswood, famous for its jerk seasoning, in St. Ann’s Parish, Jamaica.

Bromley’s high ceilings, open windows and deep verandahs are classic Caribbean architecture—designed to keep it cool in the hottest of weather. So brisk were the hilltop breezes that during evening writing sessions (held in the living room) we winter-grizzled Americans wrapped ourselves in shawls.

We held the group writing workshops in the living room, although many of us migrated to the porches to write.

Bromley has three gorgeous, sunny bedroom suites upstairs with old-fashioned four-poster beds. I opted for the less-expensive digs downstairs in the “Fort,” but I secretly coveted one of the upstairs accommodations.

My room was cute and cool (thanks to the thick, Spanish-era stone walls), but because the windows were primarily gun slits, it was a bit dark. My parched skin and sinuses loved their vacation from Colorado’s ultra-dry climate, but I have to admit that I prefer my bed sheets a little crisper than they were in the damp, ground-floor Fort.

Jamaica’s Countryside

Bromley is surrounded by lush gardens, and morning yoga was a treat held on a covered platform amid flowering boughs and bird song. Some of their squawks made even the most serious of yoga poses seem hilarious. One pair of birds called out with what sounded like a cross between Chip and Dale chipmunks and turkeys gobbling. It was a thrill, however, to spot iridescent doctorbirds (Jamaica’s national bird, also known as the swallow-tailed hummingbird) zipping among the blooms as we balanced in Tree Pose.

Pool with a view

Reading beside Bromley’s pool, which overlooks the verdant valleys of the Diablo Mountains, was popular during the retreat. If you got too hot, the refreshing water waited, and every time you looked up from your book, flowers or one of the owners’ dogs were there to greet you.

Papaya in Paradise

Grapefruit, watermelon and star apple started every colorful breakfast.

Each morning, fresh tropical fruits and steaming cups of Jamaica’s Blue Mountain coffee greeted us for breakfast — followed by other delectables including omelettes with callaloo (a green vegetable like chard or spinach) and gluten-free cassava pancakes (cassava is a starchy root also called yuca or manioc). One morning our group was treated to a typical Jamaica breakfast of saltfish. I was glad I tasted the dish, but fish in the morning just isn’t for me.

Fish for lunch is a different matter entirely. One of my favorite dishes was a coconut-crusted fish with sweet potato fritters. Delish! We also enjoyed a lovely Run Down, a famous dish in Jamaica that involves cooking either meat, fish or vegetables in coconut, Scotch bonnet peppers, onions and other spices.

All this fare was home-cooked by served by a friendly, helpful Bromley staff. We definitely ate well and got a chance to sample Jamaica’s flavors.

Bromley’s formal dining room was the site of dinner every evening.

In between all the eating, the lounging, and cocktail hour at sunset — the retreat favorite was rum and Ting (a Jamaican grapefruit soda) — there was yoga and writing, of course. Collectively, we women created wildly-ranging tales about tribal shamans, 1950s-era Irish Catholic families, memoirs of past Jamaica visits, Saharan Blue Men, family funerals, the Kentucky Derby, and stories of love and healing and of joyful, resilient children.

The words we strung together and read aloud during our week at Bromley were surely nourished by the rains, encouraged by the Jamaica sun, fertilized by vines and ferns. We all came on the retreat for some R&R, some beach time and to exhale. We got so much creative inspiration in return.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and novelist

Read more about my travels in Jamaica:

Sandy contemplated the next chapter of her memoir while swaying in the hammock on one of Bromley’s verandahs.

How I Got Hooked on Writing/Yoga Retreats

I wrote from the hammock on my patio at Villa Sumaya retreat center in Guatemala.

A few weeks ago, I went on a trip that ranks high as one of my favorite types of travel: a weeklong creative writing and yoga retreat. (In my next post, I’ll relate the details of this recent getaway — in Jamaica! — hosted by Writing Journeys and Tropical Escapes. First I want to wax poetic about the wonders of writing retreats!)

Back in early 2001, I noticed a small classified ad for a creative writing / yoga retreat in the back of Yoga Journal. What could be more perfect? Here was an opportunity to combine my passion for travel with the relaxation of doing yoga and with the luxury of having time to write twice a day for an entire week.

At the time, I was frustrated because I hadn’t managed to wedge much “creative” writing into my schedule since I finished my master’s degree 11 years earlier. So I signed up with Patchwork Farms retreats and headed to a rural Mexican fishing village of Yelapa, near Puerto Vallarta.

Views of Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, inspired our yoga practice and writing sessions.

Led by poet and writing teacher Patricia Lee Lewis and yoga teacher Charles MacInerney, that retreat gave me the opportunity to stretch both my muscles and creativity while staying in a palapa, an open-sided, thatched-roof shelter.

Pen in Hand

My first retreat also exposed me to the Amherst Writers and Artists (AWA) method of writing, which practices the philosophy that every person is a writer and that every writer deserves a safe environment in which to experiment, learn and develop craft. With this approach, writing is fun, and everyone — from beginner to professional — writes something profoundly moving or funny during the week.

Writing sessions (done twice a day) go like this: Our group (including the leaders) write together for a set amount of time (perhaps half an hour) and then read aloud what we’ve just written. Then the group responds — not critically but gently — by pointing out what they liked about what they heard and what parts from the writing stood out.

Our group worked on our Welsh suntans and enjoyed a picnic lunch while sightseeing in Pembrokeshire (summer, 2007).

According to the AWA, this practice “enables participants to expose aspects of their creative minds that may have been inaccessible, leading the writer to his or her truest voice, and fostering the power to use it.”

International Discoveries

I’ve become addicted to the destinations and the wonderful people who run and attend these yoga and writing getaways. Since my first Mexico experience (I’ve returned to Yelapa three times), I’ve attended similar retreats in Guatemala, Ireland, Wales, and now Jamaica. In the process, I’ve discovered magical places, including the St. Non’s Retreat Centre on Wales’ Pembrokeshire coast, Los Naranjos jungle retreat in Yelapa, and Villa Sumaya on Lake Atitlán in Guatemala.

St. Non’s Retreat Centre in Wales is a magical place to write and do yoga.

There’s plenty of free time on retreats, and the group always goes sightseeing. In Ireland, we hopped a boat to remote and mythical Tory Island, which still has its own king who greeted us on the dock and invited us for dancing and a pint at the local pub.

In Guatemala, we visited the Mayan town of Santiago de Atitlán to visit the fabulous weaving markets and to see Maximón, a cigar-smoking, scarf-adorned folk saint (a blend of a Mayan god and Catholic santo). And in Wales, we explored Neolithic dolmens and a sacred tree that bleeds.

The Territory Within

Perhaps even more important is the undiscovered territory I’ve explored within. Every morning of these retreats starts with yoga, taught for all levels so you can go as deeply or gently as you like. In this loose, relaxed state, I’ve often grabbed my notebook and let the sentences gush from my pen. Forty minutes later, the leader rings a bell to signal the end of this writing session, and I feel as if only moments have passed.

Over the years I’ve transformed from frustrated wannabe author to actually creating a novel. I’ve heard bits and pieces of other writers’ novels in the formative stages, and now, thanks to the work and environment of these AWA retreats, I actually believe myself to be a novelist.

Our group of yogis/writers sculpted and fired clay masks (Guatemala, 2008).

Whereas I first signed up to prod myself into writing fiction or poetry again, now I go to these retreats to work on scenes from my own novel. In fact, on my second retreat, I wrote a piece (right after a guided meditation) that turned out to be the seed for my novel.

This time in Jamaica I challenged myself to write some really emotionally draining passages from that novel — they were still tiring and hard work, but the environment sustained me.

The combination of yoga, good food and writing recharges my creative batteries. Creativity just seems to blossom where nature, art and movement intersect — and it can happen in any landscape: a beach, a jungle, a field of heather.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer, editor and novelist

Morning yoga at Bromley Estate retreat center in Jamaica