Blog : Life

Openness and Connection: A life update post 2018

Openness and Connection: A life update post 2018

It’s been a while since I’ve written a post on my personal website. Over 6 months kind of a while. It’s been much longer since I’ve sat down to write about my own life rather than things work related. At the butt end of 2018, felt a little disconnected from many people around me; I lost touch with some friends and seem to have closed the year in somewhat of an introvert / antisocial kind of mood which I’m trying to convince myself is ok. It’s been a full-on year life-wise and I have not really made time to pursue connections further than my closest, which I have mixed feelings about.

Starting this new year, I’d like to invite in a little more connection and openness, especially because I feel this creates space for understanding, empathy and a sense of shared experience about what is real and important. I often feel that the short bursts of social media do not create adequate space for some calm reflection and so I’m choosing to pick up my virtual pen here again for a little sharing in what seems more like my own space that is also open for others to join into.

This past year feels like one full of important life markers that I will hopefully look back on as beautiful and important points in my life, ones that somehow bring together many things that have been building in me over the last few years. I’ve been through a good few years of deep metamorphosis, so much so that I can hardly recognise myself when I see pictures of me dating back 10 or so years ago. Yet I know I am very much the same person, just a much lighter, freer and more confident version. I am very grateful to be here and hope that I might think similar things of myself in another 10 years or so. Growing older has so far brought a sense of distillation and finding my essence that I hope to continue to build on. Here’s a little update on what has been going on over the past year.


It’s now been my first full year of working as The Amber Spark rather than as Greta the freelancer as I did for quite some years. I had been feeling a wish to create some kind of work-related structure for at least a year before I serendipitously found Niels and Flo and together with Jo decided we had the right combination of chemistry, complimentary skills and shared values in place to join forces. As four very different individuals, our journey together has been very much centred around learning how to communicate clearly, trust fully, commit to sharing time and resources, appreciate and understand the strengths of differing points of view.

I am very, very proud of the work that we did over 2018 and feel very grateful to have had the opportunity to contribute to so many beautiful and worthwhile projects. Beyond the work itself though, I am extremely proud and grateful for the opportunity for sincere and supported self development that we have created for each other. We are consistently checking in with ourselves about what feels important, necessary and honest, making work an integral part of who we are as human beings and what we want to create and contribute to. This has caused a few tacks in our direction and means we might plan ahead but understand that things often change and equip ourselves to move with that. I really hope we can continue to explore and build on these foundations.

In related news, Jo and I have set up a Malta based studio as part of the FoAM  network. Foam Filfla, as we chose to name it, is a holding space for collaborations with the rest of the network as well as our own projects and experiments around circularity which cross boundaries of art, science and life. More about what the network has been up to lately here.

Love and new life

Milestone-wise, one can say that it’s been quite the year on the love front. The summary I guess is that I got divorced, pregnant and engaged (sounds a little like a dial phone), which sounds rather eventful when you look at it together. If I had to tell 25-year old me that in 10 years’ time I’d be here, I would have laughed it off as some kind of derailed fiction.

How could the married, house-owning, settled, corporate career-driven version of myself have gone through so much change? And yet I have and am eternally grateful for every moment of it. I am so grateful for all the love, the harsh experiences, the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, the connections, the heartbreaks, the thrills, the quiet moments. All of it has shown me parts of myself that have led to a current sense of connection, partnership and freedom that I have not experienced before. I recognise that I have caused pain along the way through my lack of knowledge of myself and my inability to show up with all parts of me. I hope that in this relationship I hold the tools to embrace (what I know of) my full self as I continue to learn about and to piece together who I am.

My partner Jo has held space for me to do this from the first moment we met each other, holding a sense of intrigue and curiosity above all fear and insecurity, encouraging me to explore myself and life. I feel very privileged to have this and hope I will never take it for granted. Having this makes me want to commit to this connection and relationship, to make space and time for it whatever is going on with my life, to allow my failures to be seen and acknowledged as steps towards more understanding and depth.

Making friends with the unknown

Which of course brings me to approaching motherhood. I am now over 7 months pregnant and as I feel this little being move around inside my belly (which I still marvel at every time it happens), I am very much aware of how much unknown this experience brings. I’ve not even popped the child out yet but just the thought of what the next 20-odd years might be like is just mind-blowing. Will I be a good mother? Will I manage to keep the beautiful connection I have with Jo over the years? Will I be able to work and be a parent? Where and how will we live? What models of behaviour will I practice? What will our child look like, sound like, feel like? What will birth be like? Will everything turn out ok? The questions are endless and come with a new sense of urgency these past few weeks.

Yet I can do little but breathe and try my best to take care of myself.

Thankfully, these past few years have been a great training ground for making friends with the unknown. Travel, moving houses, separation, freelancing and more have given me tools for sitting with my own fear of change and having conversations with it rather than letting it take over. Having also seen the rewards of embracing the unknown, I also approach it with curiosity and intrigue, wondering what’s in store and looking forward to the experience.

May this new year bring gentle and joyful gifts to all of us.

Photo by the very lovely Jo.

On activism, belonging and shades of grey

On activism, belonging and shades of grey

Some coping strategies for a very confused Malta

Never have I felt a bigger need to ‘do something’, than in these last few weeks since the horrible assassination of Daphne Caruana Galizia. I’ve been struggling quite heavily with the state of the country for the last few months, frustrated particularly with our national fear of open criticism and real public debate about the things holding us backward.

I work within the arts sector, one that is traditionally rebellious, free thinking, a leader in successfully pushing for change. Yet I’m frustrated with the close ties art has to the public sector where the vast majority of artists in Malta somehow depend on the government for their daily bread. Any activism within the arts comes at great personal courage and the knowledge that you will be seen and treated like a traitor by the institution you work for and all its networks. We expect people to be chastised for questioning, for speaking out, for challenging the status quo, and they often are. Caring for jobs became the holy grail of artists grateful for being able to live off their craft, never mind selling their soul in return.

I expect that the situation is similar in other sectors given that this country is so tiny that everyone knows everyone and we tend to react to opinions voiced in public with attacks on the person voicing them rather than on the arguments put forward.

The pattern often goes like this: person writes article / makes public comment.

If person is foreign we tell them to go back to their country since if they chose to come to Malta, they must now love all its flaws and not in any circumstances talk about them or try to change them.

If person is local, we accuse them of being pl or pn supporters, because of course affiliation with a party immediately invalidates the person’s capacity to think freely. They are now simply puppets furthering the party agenda, unable to make their own personal judgement on any issue. And don’t get me wrong, many are just that.

As humans, we want to belong. We can sense the strength of the group and the protection being part of a crowd affords. We want to be part of something bigger than us.

Here in Malta we cling to our clans with fervour. Families, band clubs, festas, the church, political parties. We’re used to public shows of unity and standing up for those within the clan without question. Upset one of ours and our inner mama bear pounces. Never mind what we think about the argument.

The thing is though, many of us are feeling the cracks in this process and struggling with them. We’re looking around for our clan, for our people, our leaders, our heroes and there are none. We long for a virtuous strong leader to get us out of this mess, we long for impartial orators who can help us make sense of the mud we’re living in, yet we reject everyone who dares enter the field. And many times for seemingly good reason. Dig for 5 minutes and find a scandal. A political affiliation, a link with ‘the enemy’, a history of lack of honesty, a public flop, flaws big and apparent that take centre stage and invalidate every argument.

Suddenly there are no heroes to look up to. No person we can hand over our thinking capacities to and get on with our crazy busy lives. Everyone is a shade of grey. Some darker than others but none without a tint of some kind.

We feel we’re doomed.
How can we cope?

To be honest my most automatic reaction is to shut it all out. I can’t cope with the contradictions, I feel like I can’t possibly trust anyone and I know that everything I say or do is being watched by a mob ready to point out my flaws and motivations. And of course everything gets recorded in the little black book that will at some point come out to haunt me. The easiest thing to do is to sit at home and avoid the news. It’s all fake anyway and we’re all doomed. Or destined for glory, depending on your viewpoint.

Yet there’s a bubbling inside me that I cannot shut out. A frustration, an itch I can’t reach. A mountain of naivety that refuses to budge. A sense of possibility that keeps singing resolutely. And every day I see signs of other people who hear the same song. I see people following their values despite the difficulty, I see people being brave and truthful even when attacked, I see that every shade of grey is made up of white and black in varying degrees and I cannot ignore the good things that are inside the mayhem. Which of course brings me to a state to confusion over which direction I’m supposed to be throwing rotten tomatoes at.

The following are some strategies that seem to help the situation:

Sticking with discomfort.
When frustration bubbles, breathing and giving yourself time to feel out your own biases to the situation rather than running off. Some things are so entrenched they need serious effort to overcome. Like our national resistance to activism. Our inability to protest. Our need to discredit the speaker before the argument. What if we choose to act differently? What would that feel like?

Building open, inclusive communities.
We’re at a place where our sense of belonging feels homeless. We see serious cracks in practically every organisation. We see and feel more struggle in doing the things that we took fore granted a few years ago. Like drive to work. Or be able to afford a house whether rented or bought. Or be able to make a living out of things that don’t make us feel dead inside. This is a time to stick together. This is a time to collaborate, this is a time to have conversations over how we want to live and work on making that happen. This is a time to come outside of our work-home comfort zone to do the things that feel important to us. To examine what strategies help us live better, help us be more ourselves, help us engage with those around us to be able to see what resources we have available and make better use of them between us. How we can better support each other. How we can give our sense of belonging a meaningful home. This is a time to get off our phones and hang out in the streets more. This is a time to fully support good initiatives, even if we feel we’re different from the people who started them. By joining and participating we can create something better.

Embracing not knowing.
Let’s face it, we’re in crisis. Our water resources are dwindling as is our ability to produce local food. Our economy is based on dubious practices, many of which rape the little resources we have available at the fastest pace possible with zero thought about long term consequences. We’re losing our ability to provide affordable housing for ourselves. Our institutions are dinosaurs that have no idea how to cope with the fast changing pace of things. Our politics are tribal and all over the place. Our law enforcement is a joke. Let’s all accept that things are not pretty at the moment and that we mostly don’t have solutions. Or at least not the fast simple ones we all crave. They are just not there. The more we get comfortable with not knowing, the more we can openly speak about things as they are rather than feel the need to sugar coat them because we’re afraid of admitting we don’t have a solid plan. Guess what? No one does. The whole world is in the same boat and we’re all trying to swim through murky waters. Mostly obstinately pretending we can see the way or worse still not realising that our navigation tools are just mirrors looking backwards that are absolutely no use now. Let’s all accept that we have no idea where we’re going even if we can feel that things can and should be different, better.

Encouraging courage.
Rather than throw things at whoever dares speak out, let’s listen and engage truthfully. Let’s give each other our ears. Let’s lend each other the platforms we’ve built to make ourselves heard. Let’s build a culture that encourages people to speak out truthfully. Let’s create space for that in every place we have an influence on whether it’s at home, school, work, social media, public life. We must have patience. People need time and encouragement to find their voice, sometimes we will be met with silence, sometimes with confused voices. Let’s leave space for that anyway and have conversations that help focus, question, improve our arguments. Let’s collaborate publicly together. Let’s train ourselves in the art of accepting criticism publicly, of making criticism publicly, of separating the idea from the person and accepting that ideas change, transform, expand, contract and migrate to unexpected lands. Let’s challenge each other to bring out our best.

Taking time out.
These are testing times and we need our wits on. The solutions we need are multifaceted, systems oriented, needing overviews and big picture approaches. We need to find ways to drop the barriers to collaboration and connection. The more we exhaust ourselves in the hamster wheel, the less we can work together to build a new solar powered structure that runs without the need for us to spend all our time struggling with it. Walk, read, stare, do nothing. Be resolute in your decision to make space for yourself. Identify the practices that slow time down for you and be ruthless in making sure you make time for them. Play, dance, sing, paint, sleep by the sea in the sun, do the things that make you feel alive, for this is the most important thing you came here for. The next piece of the puzzle will emerge when you let it.

Valletta old girl, we’re killing you.

Valletta old girl, we’re killing you.

This morning I came across this article from two years ago (don’t ask my why the photo is there, perhaps Valletta’s face is changing so much it’s now not Valletta anymore). It speaks of rents driving out people who can actually afford to live here, the loss of hawkers and small shops that make the city a pleasant place to live in, not to mention breathe life into the stately streets. A quote by Malta’s then prime minister, “The profit motive must not become the predominant one: look at Sliema, Dr Gonzi said, with its seafront all taken over by the profit motive.”
Two years down the line the situation is many times worse. Every day more tiny rooms get a fancy renovation including a colourful door and a quaint name and a listing on AirBnB. Every day more of the old shops disappear making way for character-less chains and imagination-free tourist products.
The soundscape is now 70% construction noises, 20% traffic and 10% everything else. The pigeons still rule the overground, the cats and cockroaches compete for the underground kingdom that has not yet been turned into overpriced weekend accommodation. The rubbish still piles up in the corners day in day out.
Once in a while I encounter some signs of life. Some signs of humans who are interested in more than just money. Humans who own property that they prefer to rent out to those who will actually be living there (shock, shock, horror, horror!). Shops that seem to want to do things ethically and creatively. Artists still managing to exist within the madness of the old city. People going about their daily business as if none of this madness even exists.
Most days though, I walk the streets trying to ignore the development notices on every second or third door because I cannot bear to see another pool on the roof, boutique hotel or residence to offices conversion happening. Sometimes I complain about it to whoever might be inclined to listen but to be honest I’m even tired of my own rants, void of some sort of solution as they are. 

Can we not, for once, decide that perhaps we have enough?

That perhaps we can actually afford to leave a portion of that block of flats available to those with a lower income who will contribute to the place feeling like home rather than 3 sets of tourists rolling in luggage every week? That perhaps it would be beneficial to all if we look around to make sure that we manage to keep the things that make the city a good place to live in? The little food shops, the ironmongers (possibly the only non-endangered species thanks to all the construction going on), the workshops with people making and repairing things often with their shutters open, the random bazaars, the tea and pastizzi shops, the old stationeries.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think we should press the stop button on time or change. That never works. But neither does this do-nothing approach that lets market forces decide which things die and which live. Yes, in 50 years time perhaps people will realise that a museum city is not really that interesting and the bubble will burst. Perhaps Valletta will just become another Venice, a sinking relic in the midst of throngs of day-trippers on the hunt for cheesy souvenirs. Perhaps we’re already practically there.

Or perhaps we can use the experience of countless other cities and do something about that which is inevitable unless we drastically change course. It’s not like we don’t have clear examples of what gentrification does to cities without even glancing at the many local studies conducted. Can we possibly not create something different for ourselves? Are we actually so incredibly unimaginative as to simply plod along known roads to mediocrity?

In a small island like this one, where it’s practically impossible to avoid eventually swimming in the sewage you have yourself thrown out, can we not actually work together to create something we actually want? Valletta is a city born out of a collective effort of some of the best local and foreign minds and purses of the time. A city planned out meticulously before it was built. Surely over 400 years later we at least owe the old girl some thought over what will make her once again truly alive rather than a polished shell for a rotting interior fabric.


And in case you’re wondering what you yourself, tiny person can do, there’s plenty.

If you own property, consider capping the rent to what you feel is enough, whatever that means for you not the estate agent. Consider renting to people who will live in the city and make it better.

If you’re renting, speak out about unacceptable prices for tiny dark rooms. Create a relationship with your landlord.

If you’re visiting, stop by one of the small shops or peer into the workshops. Wander beyond Republic Street.

Have conversations with tourists, locals, builders, garbage collectors, bar owners, developers, share a cup of coffee with a stranger. You never know what new realities you might learn about.

Read some of the development notices and decide whether they are helping create a more liveable city. Act on those thoughts by contacting the Planning Authority or even searching out the owner and having a good old conversation where you might agree to disagree.

If you’re an architect dare to give the feedback that’s on the tip of your tongue about how to make a better living space and why it’s not ok to turn every square metre into tourist accommodation. Dare to have standards for yourself.

If you live here, get some plants going, take the garbage out at the right time, speak to your neighbours and see if they are ok even if they seem grouchy.

Seek out the artists and support them, they make the place better for everyone.

If you’re in a position to influence even small things, use it well. Have that conversation, check that situation out, do your homework and stand up for what you feel is right instead of repeating the same old excuses everyone is tired of. You can actually do better.

We can all actually do a lot better.

Experiments with enough – Day 68

Experiments with enough – Day 68

Grumpy day. From early on in the day I could tell it was one of those testy days. Which of course has nothing to do with the day itself and everything to do with me taking on far too much and expecting far too much of myself.

Things that usually were bog standard happenings suddenly triggered me like crazy. I could feel my nerves at the edges of things and at least inserted a few extra breathing cycles before reacting to things, which tends to help.

I worked from home in the morning, visited a friend, worked so more and eventually made it to Zouk class, missing a meeting I really would have liked to attend in the process.

Zouk was a total remedy to the day and I left the place much happier than I was when I went in.

On days like this a part of me feels like things would be easier if I turned into a bitchy, strict, non helpful person. Would I then not be respected more and asked to do silly things less?

Yet at the end of the day, I know that as long as I am taking care of myself (and there lies the challenge), I can be the nicest person in the world and feel extremely good about it. Now to find that self-care gap that’s in there somewhere…

Branding Slasherdom

Branding Slasherdom

An interview with Isaac Schlesinger

For Curiosity Breadcrumbs’ fifth issue I interviewed Isaac Schlesinger about navigating the muddy waters of personal branding and presenting a coherent narrative about the sum total of all that you are. Isaac is a brilliant writer / brand strategist / chef and staunch idealist (slashes my own) who frequently makes me splutter my coffee with his incredibly candid, sharp-witted comments. He spoke to me from his new home in Hamilton, Ontario.

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Back ‘home’

Back ‘home’

I’ve been ‘back’ for over two months now. It feels like both an eternity and no time at all somehow. I can’t say that it has always been plain sailing, yet it feels good to be here and I would not really want to be anywhere else right now. The month I spent at the artistic residence in Italy was the perfect half-way house between Brazil and Malta. Between travelling and ‘being home’. I wrote that in inverted commas because this feels as much my home as it doesn’t. My home due to the familiarity of the faces here, due to the length of time my ties here run deep. Yet the more I move around, the more I see that I carry my sense of home with me, that I create it inside me. Just as I can carry my sense of travelling with me back home.

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Of humans’ need for stories, the power of visuals and the tools we need to decipher them

Of humans’ need for stories, the power of visuals and the tools we need to decipher them

My thoughts and picks from the book I have just finished: “The Age of the Image: Redefining literacy in a world of screens” by Stephen Apkon. Part of my research for my “Words” project.

Stephen Apkon’s ode to the moving picture is motivated by a love for stories and an appreciation for the skills needed to both tell and digest them in an effective manner. The Age of the Image: Redefining literacy in a world of screens is an important read for anyone interested in appreciating the power of imagery on the human mind, together with the mechanics behind this strong but often invisible influence.

Expanding beyond the world of pictures alone, Apkon shows a sense of connection and a strong relationship between the word and the image, illustrating how they inform and enhance each other; which was the very thing that drew me into this book. In Martin Scorsese’s words, Apkon “lays out the tools we need to cultivate awareness of and attention to every message and every gesture, artistic or opportunistic, expressed in print or in pixels.” This is an invitation “to look closely and find the story within”.

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A day in the life: Piracanga

A day in the life: Piracanga

Inspired by Gigi Griffths’ (awesome travel blogger and person) day in the life posts I thought I’d pick out a Piracanga day and follow myself around with a camera and a notebook. Unfortunately I got a little excited about my day and the camera part evaporated in the evening.

So I’m currently staying at Piracanga, an eco village close to Itacare, Bahia, Brazil. I aim to write more about this place and how it works sometime soon but for the moment just picture a beautiful river and beach side village that works completely in tune with nature.

I would not say this is a typical day cause routine is not really the order of the day here and every day brings new discoveries, meetings and events. But here’s what happened two days ago:

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Istanbul outside-in

Istanbul outside-in

Istanbul is a place I had been fascinated by ever since I heard the story of Hagia Sofia, the church turned mosque turned museum where Christianity and Islam sit side by side above the main altar.

I landed knowing but snippets about the place gathered from friends who had visited recently. Go to the Blue Mosque, they said, and Hagia Sofia, the Grand Bazaar. Eat Halva.

A sense of (mis)direction

I arrived at my hotel by hotel taxi, a choice I made on my dad’s insistence and sponsorship (I’m usually more of a metro / bus kind of girl). This choice turned out to be a wonderful one that saved me endless roaming around the block to find the hotel that was nestled in the most unlikely of narrow lanes and signed as ‘Café’.

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Being in Istanbul during a ‘terrorist attack’

Being in Istanbul during a ‘terrorist attack’

That morning (12th January) I ventured out in the company of Aybek, my hotel’s night receptionist, who is from Uzbekistan. He said he intended on visiting the Costantinople wall and could accompany me to the old town since this was close. We decided to make the most of the sunshine and walk over the bridge rather than take the tram. The 30 minute walk was punctuated with Aybek pointing out regions, landmarks and dishing out facts at an impressive rate given that he had been in Istanbul for a mere 3 months.

As we were approaching the Sultanahmet area, Aybek got a phone call from a friend saying some kind of attack had happened at the Blue Mosque (where we were heading). Our surroundings seemed safe and it was all business as usual in the street so we decided to walk on and see what was happening. “Are you afraid?” Aybek asked. Police sirens, helicopters filled the air but the people on the streets and shops were just going about their daily life peacefully. I did not feel in any way threatened. So on we walked.

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