The Story Begins with Inspirations From a YouTube Channel called, "Après Midi," by an American named Adrian Leeds, a common talent and personality of House Hunters International Paris episodes...
If you happen to be searching on YouTube, it would be the specific episode titled, "Après Midi with Alka Joshi and Cara Black May 2023 in Paris."
In the Early morning of March 2, 2024, I awaited my flight to leave Cleveland, and connect in Phoenix. I would then land in Oakland, CA to grab a rental, drive over the Bay, and take up my 2-night stay at my hotel.
Once settled, my excitement could not possibly be contained. How many hours of daylight would be left that I would feel comfortable enough to navigate this new world? The energy and the trees and the highways were intoxicating.. I hopped into the car, turned on my mental "Beast Mode" of confidence, and plugged in the address of my destination. Mill Valley Public Library.
"I'm here in CA, at the Mill Valley Public Library, ready to meet Author Alka Joshi tomorrow. When I read "The Henna Artist" story, and craved the Chai Tea, I would patron Luna [local establishment to Cleveland, OH] for a cup of Storehouse Tea Indian Masala Chai. For those who may not know, I have been crafting the Indian Masala Chai tea soap for Storehouse Tea. And before I left for CA..."
"A special EO'CÉAN Crème was crafted. This jar is unique.. exclusively for Alka. It is my gift. The crème will be for sale when I return home and make the appropriate website accommodations."
Indeed, at 10pm the night before I departed, I sat on our bedroom floor, laptop in hand, wracking my brain.. and confessing the writer's block I was having to my husband. I just threw in the towel and specialized the label for her, specifically.
Printing the personalized label out, I placed it onto the jar of crème, and tucked it into the signature blue krinkle, in front of a crafted Indian Masala Chai bar of soap, and adjacent to the box of Organic Loose Leaf Storehouse Tea Indian Masala Chai. The day before I left, I had called Paula and Dan of Storehouse, and told them what my intent was. They pulled the magic strings, and let me interrupt their schedules to pickup the merchandise. Being my gift to Alka, I paid for the merchandise, and made sure that the circle of monetary exchange was secured. The best part, was that Dan, Paula's husband, had picked up "The Henna Artist" for Paula, so both of them were already familiar with this favorite author of mine.
"From my many life lessons, never go empty handed."
Parked in Mill Valley, I immediately entered the library, and took it all in. Like I have shared with a friend, I totally manifested this, and the universe showered me with such a gift. I still get all the tingles thinking about this experience, minute by minute.
"I'm also patroning other magical Small Businesses, scouting postcards to pop in the mail."
Down the hill and around the corner from the library was this corner structure that housed many local small businesses. The first small business that I patroned was "Two-Neat," a storefront that utilized all of its wall space to sell shelves and shelves of greetings cards for every occasion. They also had an entire portion of its store dedicated to candy and treats for the local children (come on, us adults, too!!) to patron at affordable prices. No joke, they had the individual taffys available for a dime each. For California, I had asked how on Earth their prices sustained such expensive real estate, and indeed, because of their large population, their gross sales sustained their operation. Also, the communities there preserve the integrity of small business entrepreneurs; it is quite rare to see brand establishments.
The second establishment was to grab a bite. La Ginestra, an Italian restaurant, had some rockstar, authentic digs. It was pizza, meatballs, wine, and a to-go bag.
"And when you've saved your one magical meal for dinner, go big or go home."
By this point, I had written postcards while waiting for the delicious dinner, and my cell phone was on its last bar. I had to return to my hotel in the town over, and wasn't quiiiiiiiiite sure how to get there without the aid of my phone. Shit. My cord was at the hotel, and I did not pack it with me. Not smart... So, on the hunt I went for more storefronts..
"And don't forget that the world is a small place. My phone died right after taking this pic, as I was on a hunt to find a charging cord (whoops!). Being the rando customer with an oddball tech question, I popped in[to] this store [Epicenter Cycling] on my search. Not only was this [the] opening day for the bike store, but one of the gentlemen working is from Chagrin Falls, OH. That was a conversation that hit home!"
No, they did not have a cord, but led me to their more commercialized district down the street. I found a Whole Foods, and then they directed me to a local gas station where the cord that I bought should not be discussed in terms of its price..
BUT, I returned to my hotel that evening, courtesy of my newly powered phone!
"I was determined that Alka was never coming out to the East Coast. An internet search for 2024 events yielded an event in Mill Valley, CA, on Sunday, March 3rd. On a complete whim, I signed up to see her [no money lost for securing a spot!], maybe validating my attempt to reserve a seat. I was second in line on a waiting list, and it was already mid-February. I told my husband, and his eyes lit up. It's like maybe he knew it would happen, but there were no signs that it would. Afterall, he was heading to Irvine, CA that week for an engagement.
Anthony had left for Irvine last week early in the morning. My evening routine with our daughters had begun. We were all settled at home from school and activities, and the evening homework had begun for our girls. I headed upstairs for an early evening meditation before my mom duties would be in high demand. Buzzing with activity, my phone brought me back from me state of relaxation.
A text from my husband confirmed that he had arrived in Cali safely. It was the email notification that arrived 3 minutes before his text that obliterated all my efforts of zen.
I was removed from the waiting list. Officially, I was now registered to attend The Event [with] Alka Joshi.
I sent the screenshot to my husband, the irony that it was just too late to happen [that Sunday] with travel arrangements. He wasn't giving in to my sense of defeat. Before the evening concluded, my personal travel agent became my Fairy GodHubs, and off I would depart at the wee hours that Saturday morning. Luckily, he would return by that Thursday evening for the sake of parenthood in our home."
That next morning, awake in Cali by 4am, I let my body stir.
"Yes. I was doing this. I was going to go and see Alka. There were two nights on the West Coast at my disposal, and San Fran was RIGHT THERE! I was a total stranger to the Bay Area, and my curiosity was peaked. My husband was curious about my research of the area, which makes me smile, because I never plan. I just go. I thrive on spontaneity. I didn't know if I was west of San Fran, in San Fran, or how far south of LA I was. I'd walk on a plane, and my GPS would take me to Alka.
However it happened, I learned that the Red Oaks were in town. Like, a trailhead IN the same town as my hotel. Minutes away. The BIG TREES. On Sunday morning, I woke with the Californians, headed to the gym, did a yearly March run in the Wild West, kept my [sweaty] pants on, went to Trader Joe's for some oats, and found my way to the forest without looking back.
Of course, I stopped for a coffee at a donut shop, because you know THAT java has got to be good. After feeling equipped, I found my destination, parked the car, and stared up. This was going to be fun.
This is the Muir Forest. <MYURH>."
"Inside of the walls of the Muir Woods, an entire awe swallowed me whole. I was excited about this venture before I left CLE, consumed with gratitude for the opportunity to meet Alka, but a bit full of fear leaving Cleveland by myself. My husband knew that I needed this trip for myself, as much as I did. Having an opportunity to get to know myself again, pausing the servitude for our daughters, and following my heart led me here, to a forest of raw life.
With the comfort of my coffee in my hand, the easy chilled air in my lungs, my messy hair out of my face, the hike into the forest surged a love so deep, and still, a piece of my heart is right here. I've reminded my girls of those sticky slap hands, and how I can't quite bring my heart back home. It's still stuck in Cali. I found a piece of myself that I don't want to let go of."
"Morning conversations involved: 'Make sure you get there with enough time and you don't get stuck in traffic and miss out on meeting her.' Me: (Event is at 1p): I'll get there by 11:45. If I don't find parking, I'll have enough time to park and walk. Reality: Curlers [from freshly washed hair] didn't come out of my hair until 12. I was parked by 12:30.
This was the picture [in attached video link] I sent out before I left the hotel, a 'little bit' later than hoped.
Side note: My jewelry always has a purpose. My yellow earrings are from a special family escape. My African beads are 3 strands, my own, and each strand from my daughters. I wanted the necklaces to be given back to my daughters with Alka's energy on them. My necklace is from my Dad, who has given me much moxie over the year."
"The day I met Alka, I was running behind schedule of being 'early' early. Not late, but I was fixing the pouf in my hair from having just washed it. I had practiced the drive to the library the day before, as there was a bit of highway to navigate, and I've never driven CA roads. The parking in Mill Valley has its limitations, and the library is patroned as heavy as a stellar coffee shop is here in CLE. I had found a parking spot, a red-free curb one, and being unsure, a couple that I had consulted with offered me theirs, as they were departing.
Because they were immediately parked in front of the *red curb zone,* where you don't park, I was able to linger there with my car (Oye, I was guilty), until they were packed up.
And then, as the universe would have it, a person with a green and yellow umbrella walked down the sidewalk. I knew that chic cut hair, and those glasses, and gave in to being starstruck.
The only thing I thought to do was roll down the passenger window, and say, 'Alka,' at which the umbrella paused, and into the warmest eyes, I said, 'I'm so excited to meet you.' "
[reference video attachment] "Here, under the canopy of these radiant ceilings, the Alka Joshi Event was held on Sunday. The event offered a perfume making experience, and a moment of Alka's reflections about her masterpieces.
You see my gift being brought below."
"The gift arrives, as do I.
The uncertainty about this event was how large it would be, or how small and intimate.
Indeed, it was the latter. Alka would arrive a bit later, having patroned a coffee shop about a quarter mile away, named Equator. I had my own cup the day before, and was instantly familiarized with the sleeve design that she held in her hand.
Immediately, Alka engaged in conversation with us all, sharing many intimate details about her personal life. Other individuals arrived, and the room filled with a warmth for Alka.
Alka had a lovely introduction from the librarian named Maggie. She had tackled this book for more than 10 years before it was published. Her mother had passed away before that day came to be. "The Henna Artist" main character, Lakshmi (LUCK-shmee), characterizes Alka's mother."
[reference video attachment] "An auther in the purist form, Alka Joshi.
From the journey through these books ["The Henna Artist" is the first book of the Jaipur Trilogy], the path leads through the depths of a culture, a river of emotions, and a forest of tangled struggles that felt so raw, and are so real. A tissue box may not be enough. Go get carried away in these books.."
"She took the podium. How she owned her delivery, and segued to her research and process, my memory has failed. Ten years of critique from her editor about drained her conviction. Her editor was not going to publish "The Henna Artist" without knowing it would be a NYT Bestseller. Alka would have to edit 143 pages (I think I have that number correct), but those edits would later take life as the soul of her second book, "The Secret Keeper of Jaipur." Her publisher bought that book from a mere 20 page synopsis that Alka had composed. Her editor knew that Alka could extract more, so despite the demands that Alka was obliging to, pressed Alka for a third book.
Alka was in the thick of it all with the release of "The Henna Artist," if my memory recalls this accurately, and trying to keep all the plates spinning. Feeling the pressure and opportunity at her fingertips, she let her voice explode, and with a few paragraphs, released her vision for "The Perfumist of Paris," [the last of the Jaipur Trilogy].
Her publisher bought it without a flinch."
"I have an architectural background. My life has not been *quite* a straight path, but more of a tangential (I'm making this word up!) course, completely perpendicular to forward. I operated a storefront for 6 years while owning my soap business and trying to mother our two daughters. Last January, I folded that chapter up, poured my energy into running, ran a path in Utah last year, and came home to remove every cabinet door in our kitchen and paint each face about 8 times with a brush, while I was climbing out of store debt and selling off all the things.
It was a bit more quiet than usual, and keeping me company was a favorite woman of mine, Adrian Leeds. If you've ever watched the International version of House Hunters, you'll know that she's the French Go-To woman, adorned with her signature beret, red lips, and matter-of-fact personality. She shares a birthday with my daughter. No wonder I adore her.
I discovered that Adrian has a YouTube channel, "Après Midi," a monthly luncheon in Paris featuring professionals. This particular episode was featuring two authors, Cara Black and Alka Joshi.
Focusing on Alka's turn, the suspense as a viewer was how Alka was going to thread the French flare into her narrative debuting her first masterpiece, "The Henna Artist," which is set in India.
And then the cat leaped from the bag.
Alka was on a European press tour for the release of her third book, "The Perfumist of Paris."
Immediately, I hunted down the audiobook trilogy, book by book, and away my paint brush flew, in shiny strokes of simplistic white, deep glossy shades of lush green, and the soft, airy shade of yellow, much like the umbrella walking down the sidewalk.
At the conclusion of her speech, and taking questions, Alka guided us how to compose our own personal scents of perfumes, much like the methods that the master perfumers would conduct, which she learned from her international research for her third book.
As an attendee, I was now going to make my own bottle. Indeed, I've witnessed a stage of this process before from my essential oil supplier, MaryEllen of Aroma de Terra here in CLE.
Before I knew what dimension I was in, Alka came up to me, I think by name, and welcomed me. She asked if I would like to have a picture with her."
"One of those life lessons that brand your understanding of etiquette was taught to me in high school. I was having my art photographed in our art room courtyard under an overcast sky, so that it could be transformed into slides for college applications. My art teacher, Mr. Neff, had asked a local photographer to perform this process. At the completion of my art documentation, Neff, as we called him, pulled me aside and instructed me to offer one of my lithograph prints to the artist.
Of course I obliged. Later on, he continued the conversation. There is a sacred pact between artists, one you don't vocally about, but an understood pact. It's the exchange of art. Never, ever, a money transfer. I can say with complete honesty and transparency that I never intended to be among the last of the people in that room with Alka. But the finishing touch to my perfume bottle was at that front table, where people were conglomerating. It's not in my nature to be pushy, so I just had to wait my turn to fill my bottle up with that perfumer's alcohol.
The lady that was formerly from Pittsburgh shared in very meaningful conversation with me, until she, herself, departed. Now, it was my turn to not only fill up my bottle, but receive signatures and a picture with Alka. I got share my special stories with her, about the beautiful families and women in my life, and the gift of her first book for a dear friend of mine. Alka paused, and told me that she had a gift for me. As she reached in her bag, she pulled out "The Secret Keeper of Jaipur," the book that sanctifies a belief of righteousness in life. That Good Will should be preserved. It is my duty to accept this gift, and to pass it forward."
"Of all the mountains climbed in life, the achievements, accomplishments, success, and the dreamy clouds of things acquired, evolutions of oneself grow. The identity is really never lost, but is broadened.
An experience of solitude was an opportunity to reflect on what I can still do, what courage I carry within myself, what tunes I want my heart to sing to, and what simple desires bring joy to my happiness.
Of all the reflections, I know that prioritizing my presence for my family is a dream, a present reality. It is a state of observance, of external support, and space for my purpose to be preserved. Living a dream is as simple as holding a phone in ones hand, and cherishing the gratitude to have the luxury of doing so.
My belief is that becoming an adult, and a mother, the exploration fo these new lives around me took on a louder volume than my own. The off button, or volume control, can always be adjusted to hear the song that is still playing.
"Meeting Alka was a core memory of 2024. Her passionate, warm soul will stick with me forever. A part of gave up hope that our gifts could make a difference. Alka found writing, and persevered for years until she got the job done publishing her first book.
EVERYONE HAS A GIFT WAITING TO BE SHARED."