Oaxacan Magenta Lipstick and the Glitter-Dusted Path to Gozo

Anne Pollard James
Jul 6
3 min read

Oh, the power of women—and the power of color.

Both were in audacious display during my time in Oaxaca, Mexico with Gozo Writers.

I have this friend called Nicole Callihan. She’s a powerful poet, an opener of doors, a connector of women. Through her, I’ve been introduced to a world of poets and writers where—somehow—I’ve found a home.

We were on the phone one day, chatting about how excited I was to be wrapping up my extraordinary experiment teaching high school art (read that blog here), and that I’d decided not to go back after the summer.

She asked why, and I told her it was because I wanted my time back.

What had started as something expansive and energizing—full of new experiences and learning—was now pulling me away from what I truly wanted to do.

Nicole asked, “Like what?”

I said, “I want to take workshops. I want to explore.

Maybe even take a writing workshop from you!”

There was a tiny pause.

Then Nicole said, “You want to go to Mexico to a writing workshop in June?”

Yes.

100% Yes.

I’m in!

She told me she’d talk to Michelle Otero & Suzanne Barbezat the writers offering the workshop to see if there was a way in. Applications had closed the month before, but maybe there was a path.

Ten minutes later: “Do it. Apply!”

And so I did.

Confession time: I am a painter, not a “writer.” I write—some. In fact, I started my entire artistic journey with poetry: 30 poems in 30 days, and it lit my brain on fire. But still… not, you know, a real “writer.” Not like these women going to Gozo. (Even so, deep down, I have a feeling that I am.)

But I couldn’t think of anything more perfect than spending time with a group of incredible women writers, processing my experience of teaching and giving myself space to fill back up. To take real time to simply consider something I’ve been working on called The Delight Project (more on that here).

So I started my application for Gozo Writers.

I swear, sometimes the universe just lines things up for you.

And then, in case you were'nt paying attention, she dusts it all with glitter so you don’t miss the offering.

That happened here.

I opened the website—www.gozowriters.com—and this is what I saw:

gozo (alegría): joy, enjoyment, pleasure, delight

A workshop centered around delight. Thank you.

I was late applying, so they placed me on the waiting list. They said they’d let me know ASAP. I was so grateful for the consideration.

You know when something feels just slightly out of reach—but you know you’re meant for it? That’s how I felt.

While on the waitlist, I went to a gathering hosted by my friend Barrie.

It was a “wish party.”

She had these beautiful wish cards—thick cream colored cardstock, with a wax wick, an individual match, and striker.

The idea was to write out your wish, then light the wax wick to seal it. Did I mention the wax had glitter in it?

So I did.

Wish made.

A little later, while we were all talking about our wishes, I told them I had realized something: The Delight Project is a book.

The idea had settled like truth as I was drawing the layout of the book on this wish card.

I wanted to go to Oaxaca to work on it. (Though somehow I said Iceland and wrote Ireland… so maybe those are next on my list. Ha!)

The next week, I got the email: I was accepted.

I was offered this amazing chance to spend time at Gozo Writers—a workshop led by the spectacular Michelle Otero. Alongside thirteen other women, incredible women, we would gather to write, reflect, and consider: Delight.

Delight.

Such an important word in my life right now.

We wrote together. Shared work. Shared tears. Shared joy. Shared fear. Shared shame.

But the truth of what we did was: Witness.

My friend Iris Jamal Dunkle calls it the Cloud of Witness—and it is transformative.

We witnessed each other in the fullness of who we are.

There’s something extraordinary that happens when women gather. It calls in the energy of matrilineage—layered, ancestral, strong.

There’s real power in women sharing knowledge, support, and deep knowing—without having to consider the pressure of outside demands.

I knew before I got there that this experience would be life-changing.

And it was.

How?

I’m not entirely sure yet.