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    last year, my mom called me and told me my grandma died. only she didn’t actually say that or maybe she did. at any rate, last year my grandmother did not die. i was embarrassed and delighted that i had got it wrong. It was sad, nonetheless because my aunt B died instead and this was after a year of 5 losses for my extended family. people were gutted. i was gutted even though i live so far away. these are the people who gave me reality and showed me the world. it hurt. it hurts, even the possibility of losing the ones we love.  so i promised myself since…

  • artjournaling,  creative practice

    one book july and other thoughts

    i won’t lie. daily. it gets harder and harder to go into the studio or even the kitchen table to make art. i have wanted to be loose and generous with my idea of making. i still do but i have less and less motivation. i realize this is just life–i have a house, chores, a toddler and growing very near due date…i’m tired.  so, when i heard about one book july i was sort of on the fence. so, naturally, i tormented my husband talking about it. no doubt,  he rolled his eyes and probably fell asleep after a while but he looked interested when i looked at him…so…

  • self compassion

    what do you need?

      sometimes, i ask my son, in a far too annoyed tone “what do you need? today he turned around and asked me the same thing? what do you need?   i mean really, what do i need? i can have a day full of everything i want and still i am moody and gnawing on invisible bones. what do you need? i need space. a pause from my self and responsibilities. to listen to music and do nothing. to feel my own breath as my only company for a moment. to sip silently and expand into myself. to shake some of my resentment and bad tones from my shoulders.…

  • artjournaling,  creative practice

    creativity & slowing down

    this june, i signed up for a zillion classes. i thought i needed the creative push. maybe i did but i am thinking if i had to do it again, i would give myself a break. the honest truth is i can’t creatively keep up with the outside world. i don’t want to keep up. i don’t want the obligation to create. i just want to create but i don’t want to do it vacuum. i want to grow and explore my edges as an artist, i want to be a part of a larger conversation but i want to create for me. does that even make sense? so,  i…

  • 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”.

  • Uncategorized

    the life i already eat/remaking the narrative

    “A story is a letter that the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise.” — Carlos Ruiz Zafón I write about gaps a lot but I rarely about jumping into one.there is always a veil that I put between myself and reality as if one were not the same. As if there was some magical force keeping me from me. There is none of those things. Just the refusal of my own self to come inside and claim what already belongs to me. I am tired of writing stories of longing. Longing has become an noose. An excuse. And I am…

  • 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…

  • Uncategorized

    the good work

    i finally figured out how to upload pictures onto my blog in a rationale manner. so, i am hoping that i can share more of my images here and even , ahem, make a better portfolio of my work. why am i writing about such mundane things when so much is going on here, there and everywhere? i dunno. why not? i guess i wonder if i am doing enough but i don’t know if my doing is the same doing that your doing is and that is okay. we are not a monolithic.  “we have so much “good” work to do,” erica says and it give me pause to…