The first day of spring also marks my mother’s birthday. It’s the perfect time to return to her. As the years go by (it’s been 17 years since her passing) the memories fade. I don’t remember what it feels like to be in her presence, what her eyes looked like when she smiled or what her laugh sounded like. Although these feelings fade, my gratitude grows infinitely. I’m grateful that she fell in love with the kindest, most
I’m going to D.C. in April with Defenders of Wildlife to lobby for wildlife. I’m so grateful for this incredible opportunity to get a glimpse of the inner workings of our government and if nothing else, take advantage of an opportunity to stand up for my values and take my truth as far as my voice will go. I don’t know exactly how this trip will unfold, who we will be talking to, or if anything will get through to
I was having a high anxiety day, so I decided to step away from the computer and get out my watercolors. I started painting clothing for a flyer for Wilder Goods and I couldn’t stop, it evolved into these paper dolls. It unleashed the clothing designer spirit in me. I wanted to share with you all because it’s a really fun and easy project to do with kids, or for yourself.
To all those veteran activists out there, to the dedicated souls who have fought long and hard against injustice, to the ones who have made sacrifices for the greater good — I honor you. And more importantly, to those who had no choice but to fight for basic rights or survival, my heart aches for you and I pray for the power to shift in your favor. For some existing is an act of resistance.
A dear friend of mine recently described her new found love for ballet. She felt silly in her enthusiasm because she was a novice and knew nothing about the technical aspects of the dance, she just knew she loved it. That’s how I feel about poetry. There is a naive joy in it for me.
My morning ritual — reading and writing poetry has turned into a form of prayer for me. With the recent change of season, I had a lapse in this precious time. As the chilly air started settling in, I had to find a new space that called to me and allowed me to revel in my dream life just a bit longer. During this lapse, I found myself falling into old patterns. Going straight to my computer and
I’m still reveling in my morning poetry time. The thing I love most about taking this time to read/write poetry is that it allows me to linger in that dreamlike space before filling my mind with thoughts about the day. And once I have a poem in mind, it can hold me in that space and serve as a reminder throughout the day, to return to that place of quiet reverence. Ember turned 3 on Saturday and amidst all the celebration,
I debated for a while whether or not I should share this poem. It’s very personal and I feel it comes from a sacred place. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be shared, or stay close to my heart—free from outside judgement. I even consulted the I Ching, which brought more confusion. I sometimes find that consulting outer wisdom—as enlightening as it can sometimes be—can also bring you further from your own internal knowing. It’s funny, after
I started dancing again. This time in a more formal way than I’m used to. I’m in a lyrical class and am falling in love—with the movement, the teacher, the dancers. Lyrical dance is a fusion of ballet and jazz dance techniques. Lyrical dance challenges choreographers and dancers to use motion to interpret music and express emotion. A lyrical dancer’s movements attempt to show the meaning of the music. Lyrical jazz is a very passionate and emotional dance style.