philosophy

What Is Womyn?

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What is womyn?

A feminine fire, an unceasing ocean of creative, a constellation of nuances, a tree rooted and reaching to and from the heart, a vessel for unconditional love, and a conduit for divine overflow.

Ask womyn if it's been easy, to live a life embodied as womyn? Womyn will tell you no. Womyn will say it hasn't been easy, but it's been beautiful. Womyn would not change it for the world,  because womyn hold the world in their hearts. Do you know what this means?

No. It feels.

**"My Mother, The Ocean", Opening July 2nd, 2019, Fresh Paint Gallery, La Jolla, Ca.

Soaring in 2019 as a Guardian of Love

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I was asked to bring one word to mind(third eye) that I want to represent my new year of 2019. First, I want to acknowledge how crazy it is that it is 2019. I can not say that I am terribly sad to let go of 2018, and even the years before, but I can say that it feels as if time is doing some beautiful, quantum-entanglement dance. I can appreciate this.

Anyways, the word that came to my mind’s eye was “soar”. In fact, I saw an image of a beautiful, snow-white owl, like Hedwig(geeking out on my love for HP). This bird was gliding gracefully and peacefully across a backdrop of pearl iridescent clouds. The wings of this owl captured the light of the clouds, displaying a crystalline reflection, the kind that encapsulates all colors and none at the same time.


This beautiful image felt right, as my intention for the new year, but nothing about it was concrete. So, how can this image of a soaring owl translate into a vision for this life and year? Well, what does it actually mean to soar in all dimensions of time and space? In this physical dimension, I am fairly certain that I do not have the body of an owl. So how is this me? How can we soar? Well I think it begins much before the act of flying. In fact, I think it begins with healing, and cultivating a lightness of mind, body, and soul. When we truly attend to this work, as only we can for ourselves, we cultivate a light that reverberates through every cell in our body. This sensation is one of complete and utter ecstasy coupled with a grounded peace. Such that it feels like our soul is smiling out of every inch of of being, and we flow in harmony with all other living beings at the highest frequency. Who knew attending to our healing could give us all of that? This sounds pretty sweet to me. This sounds like a type of soaring, no?


Attending to all of our healing also sounds like a tall order. So where do I start? Again, how do I get there(here?), and then how do I remain infinitely in (f)light?


Well for me, I plan to start like this:  in this new year, I promise to kiss all of that which I am still healing, and walk a little more home, into myself every time. I promise to honor the everyday struggles, allowing the lessons to roll like waves, leaving nothing but expansion behind. I promise to exclaim with glee and gratitude for the abundance dripping in my life, and to trust that I am always held.  And in this new year, when I experience discomfort, which I know is inevitable, I welcome the goodness of it as expansion. So I set out, in this new year, as the same me, not to resolve any imperfections, but with the intention to be a peaceful warrioress. Sade says “I am soldier of love”, but I say I am a guardian of love. From this knowledge, I step into the year 2019, to serve and protect the true love frequency. Only through attending to my own healing and work can I become a clear channel and guardian of such. So, I surrender in service, and trust in the connection of all beings, and I invite you soar with me on your own unique journey.


beloved

when the conjurer becomes the conjured

of a fire dancer betwitched

between daydreams and nightdreams

there lies a plane of truth

something unwavering yet fluxxing

is a dance of beholdens

becoming who they were

before and again

those who have never forgotten

even i

amidst distractions

have learned to see

so keep waving your wand

coaxing clarity to come

your fire spells are not in vain

dial light strings

pulsing in a infinite (f)eights

through a heart with wings


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Indigo Paradise

There was a series of months in which I liked to ask people what their vision of paradise was. In Austria, I met a woman named Bea Von Schrader. She is an artist, and a mother, and a mentor—she wears many hats without wearing any hats. I asked her my question and she told me, “I think my idea of paradise changes everyday.”

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August Blues: Fall and Rise

It is something when the summer lulls... First, the sun sets earlier. It is tired from burning through countless long, hot days. Then, the stars shine through wisps of clouds, and you realize the night air is slightly cooler than yesterday. Next, you gaze at the waxing gibbous moon. It shines light on the dry, gold dirt, and you see it is not yet time for new growth. We are between planting seasons, and like the crops that sustain us, we too are waiting for the right time to start anew.

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