Labors of love
Pandemic opens doors forHouston-area residents to turn passion projects into reality
As the coronavirus pandemic continues to spread, the very definition of “normal” has changed for millions of Texans. The Houston region has lost 150,000 jobs since this time last year, with a local unemployment rate of 7.7 percent in October, as the virus alters everything from dining patterns to jewelry shopping.
But as Houstonians’ lives change in ways both finite and immeasurable, a lucky, plucky few have seized this moment, turning layoffs and shifts in habits and needs into an opportunity to focus on their bliss. Here, locals share their pandemic passion projects.
“It’s weird to talk about a global pandemic a smelling like roses afte David Accardo,
Karla Modesto, Blessings Gallery
Karla Modesto lost her job during the pandemic, but out cropped something beautiful as she rearranged her life to focus on her side hustle: floral art.
Modesto’s newfound free time was the perfect complement to an existing retail collaboration between two of her friends, who already sold jewelry and music at a shop in Montrose. They needed help running the store, and they were short on cash during the pandemic, which prompted them to shut down the space at 1625 Westheimer for several months.
So Modesto joined the retail collaboration, infusing it with new life. It reopened in October under the new brand, Blessings Gallery, offering plants, music and design. The store now serves as a hub for Modesto’s floral art startup, Babe City Blooms.
“It’s almost like there’s a fighting spirit to this store,” she said. “I don’t want this pandemic to defeat me, and that’s the energy that I bring when I walk into the store.”
Modesto also sells arrangements at local farmers markets, often selling out.
“People are really wanting to beautify their homes right now,” she said.
Modesto started Babe City Blooms as a passion project last year. When the pandemic hit and she lost her job, she decided to go all in. She already had a strong client base, after all, she said.
“No one would really say starting a business during a pandemic was the best thing to do,” she said. “But it was the most creative thing to do.”
David Accardo, Stix and Stone
There’s nothing like a pile of big heavy rocks to make David Accardo happy.
The 34-year-old Friendswood resident describes himself as a “strongman hobbyist,” but he’s actually a former competitor who still can dead-lift or squat nearly 600 pounds. (In one Strongman competition, he picked up a Toyota Camry 12 times in one minute; in another, he pulled a 47,000-pound firetruck 100 feet in 21 seconds.)
His wife, Amanda, had just landed a job with a lengthy commute, so Accardo resigned from his job as a strength and conditioning coach at Friendswood High School to help care for their kids — 6-year-old Bruce and 4-year-old Jodi — when the pandemic struck.
When weightlifting plates became hard to get, he decided to create an ABS plastic mold DIYers could use to make their own concrete plates. He sold his first mold back in late April through his new business — Stix and Stone — and since then he’s sold more than 600 molds to people all over the world.
“I’m a tinkerer and a maker. All my friends were like, ‘Dude, make me a couple of weight plates, and I’ll pay you,’ ” he said.
His 12½-inch mold costs $85 and makes a 10- to 35-pound plate. The 17½-inch mold is $115 and makes plates of 45 pounds or more. Both are reusable.
Accardo recommends using concrete with a high PSI (pounds per square inch) such as QuickCrete 5000, which costs $5 or so per 80-pound bag, and his website includes metal sleeves and other things you need to finish the job.
His detailed instructional video on YouTube has plenty of tips for getting the concrete plates just right.
“It’s weird to talk about a global pandemic and say things are going well for us, but we’re smelling like roses after the past six months,” he said.
Shannen Garza Hakim, Womxn on the Moon
Womxn on the Moon jewelry, a months-old business, has been able to thrive because of Shannen Garza Hakim’s ambition to create something beautiful in the chaos of 2020.
The 32-year-old tried to launch a jewelry business a few years ago, but her career as a college-access counselor stood firmly in the way. She was able to make bracelets, earrings and necklaces after long days at the office, but she couldn’t find a market for them.
Like many Americans, she transitioned to working from home during the early months of the pandemic, which gave her time to focus on marketing her jewelry side hustle. It allowed her to create promotional posts on social media, using hashtags such as# Latina Owned Business ,# Afro latina, #BlackGirlMagic and #LGBTQ. In September, her business caught the eye of producers at “Good Morning America,” who asked her to participate in a segment on Hispanic Heritage Month.
The “Good Morning America” experience was the jump-start she needed to dedicate more time to Womxn on the Moon, so she quit her full-time job. Then, her friends started plowing through her inventory.
“My friends were fighting over what pieces they were getting and buying multiple pieces,” Garza Hakim said. “That’s a sign that they’re not just doing this to support a hobby of mine.”
nd say things are going well for us, but we’re er the past six months.” , Stix and Stone
Ana Parras, Masks for Manchester
Ana Parras of the East End was driving through Manchester, a neighborhood bordering the Houston Ship Channel, when she noticed something that struck her as unusual. Many of the kids playing outside and adults walking down the streets were not wearing masks.
Parras’ stomach sank. One out of every 17 people in the ZIP code has already tested positive for COVID-19, according to county and census data. What’s more, roughly half of the neighborhood’s perimeter is encircled by the Valero Houston Refinery, which can be seen pushing fluffy white plumes above the homes.
Research published in the journal Science Advances has found that a small increase in long-term exposure to air pollution leads to a large increase in the COVID-19 death rate. The neighborhood already had a cancer risk 22 percent higher than that of the city, according to a 2016 report by the Union of Concerned Scientists, and many residents routinely complain of respiratory problems, which Parras was well aware of because of her work in the neighborhood with the nonprofit Texas Environmental Justice Advocacy Series.
So she reached out to a network of home sewers throughout the U.S. and Canada called the Auntie Sewing Squad, which was founded March 24 by comedian Kristina Wong as a way to address the shortage in personal protection equipment. The group has since sewn 3,000 masks of all patterns and sizes, which TEJAS has spent weeks meticulously cataloguing and matching with families so every parent and child has an appropriately sized mask. The masks for each family are being packaged in a gift bag along with hand sanitizer, gift cards and candy canes.
Parras plans to hand them out to families at the nonprofit’s annual holiday — celebrated this year on Dec. 12 — commemorating the life of Ciera Rose, a 4-year-old girl who died of childhood leukemia that Parras and others believe was caused by pollution.
“We hope to reach as many people as we can,” she said. “And to let them know people are thinking of them.”
Tanya Khalaf, Say Cheeze Board
Tanya Khalaf closes her eyes, and her mouth curves into a dreamy smile when she mentions the “addictive” white-chocolate-filled raspberries she includes on her cheese boards.
Every board has meat, cheese, crackers and something sweet — maybe organic honey or some bacon jam — but those raspberries are going to knock your socks off, she says.
When the coronavirus pandemic kicked the American economy offline, Khalaf was furloughed from her job in travel sales. The 35-year-old Houston native needed an income, so she turned to what she knew best: food.
Khalaf’s go-to dish for a party or potluck was always a cheese board. She loved all kinds of cheeses, and the beautiful arrangements could satisfy her creative side.
She made some boards, posted photos on social media, and her Say Cheeze Board business was born. She’s busier than she ever imagined and gearing up for the holiday season.
Small, one-person snack cones run $15 each ($10 if you order 10 or more), and trays range from $30 (feeds two) to $100 (feeds eight to 10). Special holiday party boards to feed a crowd range from $140-$200. You can provide your own board or other vessel, or you can “rent” or buy one from Khalaf.
Khalaf’s saycheezeboard Instagram account displays a good variety, and they each have a flirty little pickup line: “Do you have a name or can I call you mine?” “Are those figs, because I’d rather have a date?”
It’s all harmless, and just the right amount of cheese.
Josh Ryan, Introflirted
Josh Ryan released his first book in late 2019: “Introflirted: 31 Love Notes for Introverts,” is a collection of flirty phrases on perforated postcards made for those with big hearts but little desire to be in crowds. Then came lockdown.
“There was kind of this interesting, weird twist that happened,” said Ryan, 33, a Houston-based designer and “maker of thangs.” “Everyone became an introvert and got stuck inside all day. It took on a new meaning, more or less.”
He quickly produced a second book early in the pandemic, drawing inspiration from being an introvert himself. His books combine text and illustration, as well as real and imagined introvert experiences.
“All these things you build up in your mind that you want to say, but you never say,” said Ryan, whose second book, “Love Means Never Having to Say Anything,” was released in August.
“It started as a doodle,” Ryan said. Now, Instagram users find pen pals through his account and trade his postcards internationally. He has received mail from China, South America, South Asia, and Europe.
“If you’re a brave introvert, you’ll mail it to the person who makes you feel that way,” he said.
He’ll leave that to others, though.
“If I had the courage to do that, I wouldn’t be making these,” he said.