• artjournaling,  creative practice,  writing

    art ramblings and voice

    this evening,  i finally made it to my studio. i am not painting much (or at all) these days. i don’t know why. i find myself mostly drawn to collage, markers and writing. it seems simple and i hope sustainable. so, i culled my working notebooks even more. i feel almost notebook naked working with just a handful of notebooks. I am wondering if it is possible to let of of even more but i don’t want to push it. Ahem, and by let go, i mean put in my supply closet…so there’s that. honestly, i really did not expect my pregnancy to last so long into this month. my…

  • writing

    what matters

    one thing these past few weeks and months have taught me is that life is most certainty not a formula.it’s most certainly not about who is watching and what they like. it’s not about perfection or 5 steps to whatever…. you can do everything right and still it all falls apart. you can want someone to live and they die. you can want to hold someone you love as they leave this world and instead never hear their voice again. you can want to have a, b and c and maybe you get z. you can have all the material abundance in the world and be lonely. you can be…

  • self compassion,  writing

    rising with mystery

    these past few weeks have been all over the road emotionally, mentally and physically. i’ve not tried to contain or explain them (in great depth) but i have tried to be honest with myself about what is happening. one thing that keeps coming up is my “need” to control all the things and the fact that i have very little control over anything.  we (or rather I) often say, “it’s out of my control” and then we/i do everything possible to control a situation. i’ve been doing that with several situations and most likely for several years and that really doesn’t work. i wish i could say there was a…

  • writing

    let your uncomfortableness feed you

    we want to jump from our (un)comfortableness. we want to wrap up our humanity in a pretty bow and isolate our feeling and the rawness of life from our little air castles. death and grief are as natural as birth and joy. there is a bit of thread connecting it all.   don’t rush to swallow your tears and cleanse the room. let the softness of your toes on the ashes remind you of your ultimate destiny.   let death be as it is. a part of life. don’t placate it with empty words.   let it break your heart. hold your self open to the flood of feelings. they…

  • writing

    open your hands to the water

    if your heart is restless awaiting water maybe all you have you have to do is step in the river and open your hands i don’t really feel as optimistic as this. currently, going through photos…finds fragments ofmy friends, family and myself. seeing and feeling in words and pictures already written. the sting of loss is hard and overreaching. dry and fertile with memories and dreams. we can’t force our way through the water or the grief. we know the water stands. it abides. it waits for us. no matter how long it takes to get there. even if just a toe…one day. not now. now is the time to…

  • self compassion,  writing


    These day feel slow and fast ticking. Like a collision of breathlessness and endless waiting. Waiting in the distance between spaces of who we will become. Waiting for Who I will become again and who I will be anew.    A small pile of weeks to keep me company. A small pile of worries to dissolve. To hide under. Unless. I take the time to face them like old friends, lean close and comfort them at my bones.  I cleave to this time as much as I wish it away. I want the new and the familiar all in one. I try not to be too excited but I can’t help…

  • self compassion,  writing

    the conversation

    this week I had one of the realist conversations of my life. You don’t need to know the particulars to know that it ended in tears, heart-felt stories shared, apologies and some very loose ends. the conversation, itself, was a major victory. the loose ends can be expected. loose ends should be expected. i know that we live in a world that wants a victory lap after everything. sometimes, all we have is a small wave from our heart. maybe, a tender voice inside, saying…”yes, this is where you are suppose to go. Thank you for showing up”.

  • writing


    yes to sunlight. yes to doing art outside. yes to undoing to restore. yes to simplicity and color. yes to reclaiming a writing space inside my life. yes to morning prayers. yes to sitting by the window. yes to vesper shadow. yes to showing up, however large or small. yes to tea and talking. yes to deep kisses and walking. yes to the dirt. yes to the lovely. yes to the pockets ofsweet quiet and the tinges of lonely. yes to the hard as h**l. yes to life.

  • self compassion,  writing

    wide-open hearts

    yesterday was one of those days, where i completely lost my sh*t for a few moments. oh, it was nothing huge but it was a mix of a pile of frustrations and sheer tiredness (a dangerous cocktail for me). it was one of those moments when i thought all my hard-won progress in a certain area was just evaporating and the situation felt so hopeless. i wanted to blame someone. anyone but me. so naturally, it blamed the people around. for the record, this does not make for a lovely or peaceful situation. not at all. somehow, we rode out of it. maybe it was just taking some space from…