Crafting art from the heart

Sebastian Camacho has not had a regular job for about two years now. He’s never been busier and felt more fulfilled.

At daytime, he makes necklaces out of seashells, coconut shells, and pieces of driftwood. He writes songs. He practices the Korean martial art hapkido. He risks his neck building a tree house for his three sons.

At night, he does his round of bars and restaurants, serenading tourists and local people with his low, gentle voice.

“I’ve waited all my life for something like this to happen. I’m just glad to be doing what my heart wants—to entertain people and to work on my art,” he said.

Twelve years ago, this peace of mind was something that Camacho could only dream of. Stationed in Korea as a member of the U.S. Air Force, he was undergoing a personal struggle that eventually led to his early retirement from the service.

Back on Saipan in 1992, he took a tour guide position with a travel agency, probably becoming the only Chamorro to converse with Korean visitors in fluent Korean.

It was the first of a series of jobs he would take on in a period of 10 years.

He left the tour guide work in June 1997, only a month before the Korean Air crash on Guam, which, compounded with the Asian economic crisis, led to the downturn in the tourism industry.

He then spent a year bartending at the Plumeria Hotel and another year working as a sales representative at Sports America. In 1999, he got a sales-related job with a local radio station and started playing with his band four nights a week at Round Two Bar and Grill.

He quit the bar in 2001 and the sales representative job the year after.

Amid all the job-hopping, at least one thing remained with Camacho: the extraordinary art that he found in 1993.

“It all came to me in a dream. In my dream, I was walking on the beach and I picked up a piece of wood, where a face appeared and told me to start carving. So when I woke up, I just did it. It was amazing when I realized what I could do because I never had any training or prior knowledge how to do it,” he said.

That Camacho turned out to be an artist, however, should not be so surprising for people who know his family background. He is after all a grandson of Guam’s master carver, the late Segundo Blas. Camacho’s mother is the niece of Blas.

Still, Camacho’s carving career did not fully develop until recently.

Last July, he joined the largest delegation ever sent by the CNMI to the Festival of Pacific Arts. He actually went for the festival in Palau as a performer; but inspired by the multitude of artists around him, Camacho found himself waking up at 6am to carve.

His necklaces started to draw attention, particularly from officials of the CNMI Department of Community and Cultural Affairs who would give him much support and encouragement in his carving.

Another turning point in the story of his art was the onslaught of Supertyphoon Chaba, which left his entire house roofless at a time when he was practically “dead financially,” he said.

With only $11 in his pocket, he drove north one day trying to get away from his problems.

“Something told me to go to Aqua Resort [Club]. I was sort of feeling hungry, so I decided to go into the restaurant and ordered some breakfast. I didn’t know how much it cost, but I went ahead anyway.

“Suddenly, Jack Quitugua [a manager at Aqua Resort] came up to my table and became interested in my necklaces. He asked where I bought them and I told him I made them. He was so glad to know that someone local is doing what I’m doing, he let me set up a table at the hotel lobby and sell my work. I learned a lot and sold a lot that week. People came up to me with a lot of ideas, like they’re teaching me how to really carve,” Camacho said.

More than anything else, the experience taught him that he could make a living out of something that he really loves to do.

People interested in seeing samples or buying Camacho’s work can find him at the Garapan Street Market every Thursday.

Aside from carving, music and entertaining will always be a big part of Camacho’s life, he said. The Serena Garden on Capitol Hill and Sam’s Bar & Restaurant in Garapan are only two of the bars where he can be found emceeing, playing the guitar, and/or singing at nights.

To keep his body fit and able to keep up with his lifestyle, Camacho continues to practice hapkido in which he holds a second-degree black belt and a certification from Korea, where the martial art originated.

But above all else, his family gets the most share of his time and attention. Only recently, he almost broke his neck when a rope snapped while he was up a tree building a house for his children.

If Camacho is your father, a trip to the jungle without a map, compass or even an inkling of where to go, is more a lesson in life than a wild adventure. “If you keep thinking you’re lost, you would be lost. But follow your instincts and you’ll find your way out,” he said.