In this issue:

1. Time _{^{(3 min read)}}

2. Timeless Potato Salad _{^{(2 min read)}}

3. Spending Time with Betelhem Makonnen, in memoriam _{^{(6 min read)}}

4. Time, Given, Cynthia Muñoz and the many ways of showing up _{^{(22 min with paid subscription, 10 min. free version)}}

Time

This month, my nature highlight is time. This edition of Yes, Please and Thank You is deeply inspired by the work of artist Betelhem Makonnen, who recently passed away, and who spent a good chunk of her career reflecting and helping us understand the limited and invaluable resource that is time. She insisted on treating it with the utmost respect and care. Which now I know to do.

I'll tell you more about her, her work, and my deep admiration of Bete shortly; for now, I'd like to invite you to take a deep breath, let your mind go blank, and cherish as many seconds as you can hold your brain from thinking, or your body from doing things other than breathing. Can you do it again? Can we just BE for a tiny bit?

I, as many of y'all, am in a constant internal battle trying to unlearn the "productivity" way of living. I knew that was the only acceptable way to exist: producing, caring, serving, generating. I understand where that came from, and the importance of doing all those things, but I am intentionally trying to make as much space for slowing down too. What I am embracing is that our presence as humans is beautiful and miraculous enough. Yes, being part of a community and showing up as a good person comes with participating, helping, loving, and working; I am all for that. Staying still also counts: experiencing nature, observing, and flowing enhance and enrich our days as much.

The instinct of grabbing my phone and consuming news, content, games, or pretty much anything that numbs my brain is relentless; being neurodivergent alone demands so much stimuli; the fact that these systems are designed to be addictive is truly evil genius work. The willpower has to be so strong, and the awareness so high, to win and steal back presence, my energy, and time.

Social endeavors can be similar: committing to things you don't enjoy, or people pleasing, gives someone else authority over my time, wishes, and needs. Taking me further from where I want to be, who I want to become.

Time is my most valuable possession, and I want to spend it in pursuit of my higher self, on a deeper connection to nature, in silence, with kind and funny people, learning, using my hands, connecting with things that exist in this realm.

Do you struggle with that too? Who are you giving your time to without even thinking? Could you be more active in deciding where it goes?

Bete made a whole body of work defending stillness as its own kind of activity; one piece is literally titled untitled (in defence of inactivity as activity). And she generously gave her time to people, on her own terms, when she chose to.

Cynthia Muñoz is someone else I think about here, on the other side of the same coin: not conserving her time so much as pouring it generously into people and causes she believes in. I asked her how she decides where it all goes. You'll read about her too.

Lastly (but firstly in order of reading), sweet Shea is spending time in the kitchen for us, pouring his creativity and wise hands into a product of love, hoping to pass that along to your kitchens and loved ones, bringing joy to your palate and tummy.

Timeless Potato Salad

The classic potato salad… a timeless summer side dish that appears everywhere and oftentimes anytime of year. An amalgamation of ingredients and flavors that complements so many other dishes. Maybe that’s why it’s such a ubiquitous offering at gatherings. 

I love a good potato salad; the variations heavy with mustard and mayonnaise are a classic, but I lean towards other ingredients that bring similar flavors and leave room for something a bit more complex and deep. The timelessness of potato salad is no coincidence at this moment. What I am sharing is simply my version of this classic dish that suits my taste right now. 

With my recipes, I like to offer broad ideas, not exactly step-by-step instructions. I’m suggesting that you make your own potato salad, the variation that may make sense to you at this time and in whatever place you are in. This is the version that I felt like making and sharing. If you follow my potato salad path, I hope you enjoy it.

Timeless Potato Salad

This recipe makes a decent side dish for potlucks, wakes, and summer gatherings to celebrate community. It takes whatever time it takes to make.

Ingredients

Red potatoes - 2 lbs.
Celery - 1 ½ cups
Sweet Banana Peppers - ½ cup 
Pickles - ½ cup
Castelvetrano Green Olives - ½ cup
Pickled Okra - ½ cup
Jalapenos - ¼ cup
Asparagus tips - ⅓ cup
Scallions - ¼ cup
Thyme - ¼ cup
Extra Virgin Olive Oil - ¼ cup
Labneh - 1 big spoonful
Salt
Pepper

Directions

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. While the water heats up, cut the potatoes into bite-sized pieces. I suggest red potatoes, but many other varieties work well for potato salad. I prefer to leave the skin on the potatoes.

2. When the water is at a rolling boil, add the potatoes. Cook until just tender, to the point that a fork can just pass all the way through the potato. Drain the potatoes and immediately put them in an ice bath to stop the cooking process. Set aside

3. Chop the other ingredients. There are many ways to chop; here is how I approached this:

• Celery - thin slices diagonally

• Sweet Banana Peppers - roughly chopped

• Pickles - roughly chopped

• Castelvetrano Green Olives - slices like you’d see on pizza

• Pickled Okra - sliced like the olives

• Jalapenos - minced

• Asparagus tips - sliced in half along the length of the spear

• Scallions - little rings

• Thyme - minced finely

4. Add all the chopped ingredients, olive oil, and labneh to the cooled potatoes and mix thoroughly. Add salt and pepper to taste. I suggest labneh for this variation on the potato salad. You could go with yogurt or mayonnaise or none of those and make this a dairy-free dish. All of these options end up making a really delicious potato salad. 

Now that you're either making that potato salad or already dreaming about it, let's turn to time spent with someone I love.

Spending Time with Betelhem Makonnen, in memoriam

I met her while working with David Lobel, years ago. She was curating for Fusebox then, and we were in the same building, Prizer Arts and Letters. We would cross paths often — I'm pretty sure we were the only People of Color, along with the amazing Mari Akita, who worked with me too. It is easy to lock eyes with other immigrants and create invisible bonds. We would bump into each other in the kitchen sometimes and exchange words, comment on the day or whatever; I started learning about Fusebox and her role, and I dug some and found her work. It felt so relevant and strong.

I was just getting an opportunity to curate outside of my organization in the US, through Presa House in San Antonio, and I jumped at the opportunity to work with her. I asked if she would be part of a show about womxn identifying artists in Texas; I was in charge of Austin, and she was the first on my mind. When I asked her in person, she said something along the lines of "I'm very intrigued by you, Coka, I'll do it," in her soft yet clear voice. This was HUGE for me. After coming from Mexico, where I was already curating and having a rising career, working in Texas had been very complicated; I mainly generated exhibits or happenings on my own as pop-ups to establish myself in the community. Having an opportunity in a recognized gallery like Presa, and the chance to show serious work with people who were leaving marks wherever they went, was the clearest statement I could make: I offered substance, a good eye, and I meant business.

Bete took a bet on me, and I will forever be grateful. The exhibition, Intersections, also featured Jieun Beth, Lys Santamaria, Rehab El Sadek, and Aimée Everett representing Austin. Plus many outstanding artists that luckily I keep in touch with and that I deeply admire. Read more HERE.

Luckily, that was only the first of many times we collaborated. We would coincide at different art events in Austin, talk, and grow our friendship.

After that, I worked with her through arts nonprofit Big Medium, when she won the Tito's Prize in 2019. I was the program coordinator, which allowed me to get a glimpse of her process and what she was producing. This time I was able to be of service to her and her practice; it was so meaningful to me.

The exhibition premiered in March of 2020. Rock Standard Time (RST) acted as a premonition; a few days in, time stopped. Then, the pandemic.

During those crazy times, we produced a series of artist talks called "Creative Standard." That initiative had started a couple of years prior but ramped up during the pandemic to create a sense of community and togetherness. Anywho, the one and only Deborah Roberts agreed to participate, and it only made sense to have Bete conversing with her. It was a rare chance to hear two voices who had collaborated and shared studio space in the past, talking to each other in public. The talk was also important. A dent in the messy timeline. I am so grateful for that participation; another time Bete showed and made things more significant, valid, deeper than I could have on my own.

As time progressed and her exhibition sat frozen inside the gallery, doing logistics and trying to guess when to open, assess the risk, and how to proceed was pretty stressful, especially since at that time I also got promoted to Curator and Director of Programming. (It may be prudent to say, when I'm speaking of the difficulties of these times, or any for that matter, I'm speaking specifically about my own career and journey, if you may. I acknowledge my incredible privilege, and I don't take it for granted.) I simply mean, I was trying really hard to make a mark, being prudent towards our patrons, and serve Bete's vision. Navigating and making scary decisions by her side was a blessing.

She was always assertive, in the kindest and most thoughtful ways. I learned very hard lessons about people, politics, and taking a stance, watching how she moved through rooms that didn't always deserve her. She turned to me each time, made sure I understood. She had walked places I hadn't, she wanted me to know how to protect myself, protect us. Her ethics are contagious and inspiring. Because of her, I'm a more intentional person. I'm more proud of standing for what's right, even when, on paper, those decisions looked like a loss at the time.

She took her time, and she took a chance on me, more than once, and I won't ever let that go from my field of vision. Shea and I had many chats with her about life, art, and making space, in part thanks to our shared arts complex, but also because of how generous and curious she was. We were lucky to be near her, and that she thought we were worth her time. She was very protective of it. That thoughtfulness seemed to be exactly what helped her make better decisions, in life, in community, and definitely in her art.

Her boundaries were precise and delicate. She knew herself, and we weren't getting anything that didn't align with her. I remember once inviting her into a last-minute commission, and her answer was simply: "Everything about it excites me... but this is a short timeline for me at the moment, and I will not be able to accept." No apology. No over-explaining. Just her line, held.

Oh man, her art. Always so layered, beautiful, and perhaps a bit off from what one would expect, which made it so much more exciting. Her own words are the better introduction, if you have the time: betelhemmakonnen.com.

A 2020 quote from Hyperallergic has stayed with me, and I hope to honor it in my own practice: "I am not currently making in the sense of objects or forms. I am reading a lot, unlearning and learning. ... I am finding ways to actively align my practice to support and participate in the abolitionist movements of our times. Our times are in our hands. Work, rest, repeat." 

I actually invite you to read the whole thing HERE. In it, you can read reflections of other Black artists in Austin during quarantine, including Bete’s friend and collaborator Tammie Rubin, friend and mentee Aryel René Jackson, plus the talented rock(art)star, Dawn Okoro 🖤

I worked with her again in group shows and an art fair. Having her trust, on top of her time, is one of the biggest honors of my career and my time in Austin. I don't say that lightly.

She often talked to me in Spanish and Portuguese, always something sweet. Her memory and patience were also outstanding.

She's leaving a void. But fortunately for us, there is a lot of her art and her words left to sit with.

I hope you let yourself take a piece of her brilliance and take the time to sit with one of the best thinkers this city has had. You deserve it.

Time, Given

Cynthia Muñoz is easy to spot in a room. Best outfit, freshest energy, usually mid-laugh with someone you also want to know. She's one of those people you watch and think, how do they do it? — while you side-eye your own calendar hard.

Some of that is trained: As Cindy Popp, she has built a solo practice in self-transformation photography, using found objects, clothing, and makeup to turn herself into anyone she wants, work that landed her in a show at the Elisabet Ney Museum in 2018. She's also one half of Payasa, a clown-photography project with fellow artist Andie Flores, covered by PBS and CultureMap Austin, the two of them dressing up and going out in public just to see what happens. She's a recognized artist in her own right, on both fronts, before we even get to everything else she does.

And there's a lot else.

For starters, she's the magic person who did my latest headshots, which means a lot since this is a new era in my life, total rebrand, and I love them. Her vision, styling, and ease really came through even when I generally feel super awkward at taking photos. Thank you, C!

Also, three boards. A monthly programming slot at Hyperreal Film Club. A VHS zine, karaoke nights, on top of a full-time job. All of it volunteered, and all of it, somehow, still fun.

I wanted to talk to her about what it actually means to show up for a city and its people. Here's what she told me:

Georgina: I don't know you super closely, but I've known of you forever. A lot of beautiful outfits and style photos, but also about your commitment to the community and how you show up for so many people I know and I've worked with. And that takes a lot of time and investment. What are you currently working on, you know, extracurricular activities?

Cynthia: Being on the board of the Museum of Human Achievement, having a studio there, just being generally involved. I'm the board chair, so there are a lot of specific responsibilities to that, but I also volunteer a lot at their events. I help with a couple other committees; one is the philanthropic committee, working with people to steer fundraising strategies with MoHA, and then the campus planning committee, thinking about what MoHA could look like in the future, how to collaborate with other orgs. 

And then the second one would be We Luv Video. I'm also board chair there. I started as a clerk at the video store, then became a shift lead, which is sort of a keyholder manager position, and then just started on the board a couple months ago. There's no paid staff; there's no executive director. It's completely volunteer-run. So the board sort of fills the role of an executive director: working with the bookkeeper, taxes, paying the rent, landlord stuff, HR issues, but also figuring out what grants to apply for, and doing fun things, like we're getting a new sign. What's the neon sign going to look like? Who are we going to work with to make that? How do we contribute to the vibe of North Loop? (The neighborhood they’re in Austin, TX).

And so, just being part of preserving physical media, being a third space people can come into. There's a micro-cinema. This weekend I'm helping with the Shelley Duvall Appreciation Night. I was part of the team that got a grant from the city for a window residency there, in the windows. I just finished the year of that; I'm going to hand it off to someone else now. We had an open call for submissions for what people wanted to do in the window, and quarterly we'd switch it out and pay artists for that. That was really cool. They also got to do a screening of their choice. It's a fun little program, a way to incorporate a different medium into the space.

And then lastly, Hyperreal is the other big one right now. Hyperreal Film Club. I am on their Hype Council, which is kind of like an advisory board. I'm also a programmer there, so I have at least one thing every month. I do a lot of their special events; this last month I did a PowerPoint night where people came and talked about different topics. I do trivia there; I've done karaoke, and I'll do special events like a week of Jackass movies, whatever else I have going on. I'm also in charge of managing all their new merch. We just released a fun towel, like a beach towel that looks like a VHS tape. I got us a grant for a VHS zine; there are fifty copies, and people submit their shorts to be included, for a specific theme. This year's theme is “Coming Soon”. It's trailers for movies that don't exist yet. You get to make a little trailer, anywhere from thirty seconds to two minutes, and we'll create a compilation of them, record them onto VHS tapes, and there will only be a limited amount. We'll work with a designer to create custom cover artwork and have a big premiere for it later in July. (now in the past 😞)

Those are the main ones I'm involved with now. I used to be involved with Future Front Texas really closely, but my time there has ended. I still volunteer at least once a quarter and go to stuff; I'm friends with all of them.

Georgina: How did you become involved in the boards? Was it hard?

Cynthia: For Future Front, I went to one of the very first meetups, when it was still Boss Babes, before it was even a nonprofit. Maybe the second or third one. And then I just kind of stuck around. I joined; I can't remember if I was a resident artist first, or if I joined their programming committee first, but I did both. The resident artist one was because they had an opportunity to show at the Elisabet Ney Museum, and I thought that was very cool, so I tried for that. The programming committee was because I wanted to understand how this kind of stuff works. I had no experience in arts and culture nonprofits, formally, so it was a way to peek behind the curtain and understand who makes these decisions, how they get made, what the impact of them is, and whether it actually matters.

I don't remember exactly, but you had to have a certain level of demonstrated commitment before you could be eligible to apply for the board. So I tried it, and I was really nervous, because I'd never been on a board before, and it felt very intimidating. I was like, “I don't know that I really have anything to offer, but let me try it”. And it ended up being a really valuable experience. I learned a ton. I was on it for three years. I served as the treasurer.

Even when it was hard, I could recognize how useful that experience was. Because I was doing it for an organization I had a close relationship with and such a deep affection for, it felt very important and meaningful. I knew that any decision the board made, I knew exactly who it was going to touch, and how it might impact them. Whereas sometimes, working in these big corporate companies, I can feel very lost; I'm a number, it doesn't matter, I'm totally replaceable. But on these boards, you are critical. It felt like a way for me to channel the energy, or the desire I had, to feel like my time or input was meaningful, in a way I wasn't necessarily getting in my day job. I did that for three years, and when my term ended, I applied to be on the curatorial board, which was similar to the old programming committee. I did that for two years, I think, and then that ended a year ago.

I grew up going to I Luv Video, the one on Manchaca in South Austin. They had pizza. And then as an adult, when there were only two left, there was the one on Guadalupe, and the one on Airport. I was still always going… I love renting a movie; there's something really fun about it. That space was so exciting and inviting; you never knew what you were going to find. And then when it closed, I was devastated. I thought I was going to reopen it myself; I had all these plans and was trying to make it happen, then I saw a Kickstarter of these other people doing it. I was like, “Oh great, I don't have to do it; somebody else is doing it. Now how do I just help them?” So I signed up for the Kickstarter immediately, donated, and was just like, I need to be in the loop. I went to a couple of the events leading up to it, went to the soft opening, got a membership right away, and started volunteering. Just got more and more involved with the org.

By then I had all the board experience from Future Front, so I could help with bigger things. I did some larger projects and one-off things, and eventually joined the board of MoHA. 

I think I wandered into MoHA during a First Saturday — it was their Ikea-inspired show, where they put Ikea tags on all the stuff in MoHA and sold it. I remember seeing one for a dirty sponge and thinking it was so funny. I was like, “I'm going to hang out here, what's going on?” I did a couple pop-up projects, then some programming with the drive-in, then got a studio there, and then Zac asked me to join the board. I was really afraid to join, because he wanted me to be Board Chair, and I was like, I don't know that I feel like I know how to do that; that feels intense to me. Eventually he convinced me, and it's been good. I was really nervous about it, but it's been a really good experience.

Future Front was going through a lot of changes when I joined; we went from Boss Babes to Future Front during my board term, so there was a lot of work around what else we were going to do differently. In contrast, MoHA was incredibly stable, so I was interested in joining a space that wasn't going through a big thing at the time. The board at MoHA is full of really interesting people, and I was excited to be more connected to them, to work with Zac on a different level — we're very good friends, we talk all the time, but I didn't necessarily make big decisions with him, or think through these critical things together. It's been interesting to deepen our friendship in that way. I deeply admire both Zac and Jane (Future Front Texas’ Founding Executive Director), and what they've accomplished, the communities they've built, so any opportunity to work more closely with them, to understand what makes them tick, I'm going to take it; it just feels like a gift.

Then Hyperreal, I'd never heard of them until they did a Fast and Furious thing at MoHA, and I couldn't go; it's one of my lifelong regrets. But I was like, “who are these people? They seem interesting.” I started going to their pop-up every Monday night. I honestly don't remember when I became friends with any of them; I think it was just because I kept showing up. I volunteered at maybe one or two of the pop-up nights, and then Hyperreal was looking for board members, and I thought maybe I could do that. I was on their board briefly, right before they opened their space, but I left because I wasn't sure I was the right person to be on the board at that time; I wasn't really ready for real estate and that kind of stuff. So I ended up leaving, and I thought, they're going to hate me. And then they were like, “No, join the council!” From there is where I started doing programming and the merch stuff. The way they operate is, we all have these big ideas, want to do these exciting cool things, but then it's, “okay, who can actually put aside the time and energy for it?” And I often volunteer for that, because I'm happy to. 

For the real ins and outs of commitments like these, and what to actually expect, become a paid subscriber.

Georgina: Do you have any advice for anyone who wants to get more involved in these kinds of activities?

Cynthia: Do it. Just fucking do it. There really is a decently low barrier to entry. It's just, will you consistently be here? Are you a smart, kind person? Are you not going to try and destroy this thing? Do you have experience making work, or being around artists? Do you even just enjoy it? 

I think almost every board I've ever been on has had at least one or two people who've never been on a board before, and that's always exciting; it tells me something about the kind of people this organization wants to be guided by. I think it's really important not to feel like you need a checklist of things to qualify. And if you don't want to be on a board because it's a big commitment, volunteer; do it whenever. All of these organizations have one-off opportunities; you can come every week, or once every six months, whatever. Just do it. I spent a lot of years not doing it because I felt like I didn't have the right skills, or enough time, or didn't feel cool enough. And then, honestly, I think it was COVID; Seeing things I cared about go away because they were unsustained was a real wake-up call. If I want a thing to exist, I have to contribute to it, because these things are just run on sweat and a dream. They can go away in an instant. So just show up. Just start doing it. It's great.
We'll be happy to have you.

I hope this edition of Yes, Please and Thank You feels different, yet the same. Life happens, and we always have to reprioritize.  Talking about time felt necessary. We all struggle with its abundance and scarcity. I know I do. And I know it's one of the loudest symbols of my humanity.

Give yourself space to reflect on the importance of time, and what we do with it. Of the silences, pauses, and present. We don't owe our time to anyone, certainly not to exploitative systems that hoard and thrive on taking our biggest asset away from us. I'm reclaiming mine by deciding to take it. You make yours your own, however that looks. 

Would you share how you choose to do that with me?

Cheers, friends.

🖤

This issue is about time, and choosing where to spend it.
If your practice, brand, or institution is ready to be assertive about how it invests its time, book an intro call at georginatrevino.com

For speaking and programming inquiries: [email protected]