the ocean as my home

Jul. 3, 2017 by

There’s a way in which the Ocean has been calling me, more deeply than I’ve been called to her before. A way in which she’s showing up for me in dreamtime. Her shoreline, her waves and undulations, her waters. It’s

Shadows + Charcoal +

May. 11, 2017 by

Beloveds, Today, I took my sketchpad into the garden and set the long tree pages against the iron table. I scooted her to the shadow, so I could see. And then, there was the art. The shadow itself, guiding me

we are the possibility makers

Dec. 26, 2016 by

My Loves: We are more powerful when we gather. Our talents activate in community. We come alive when we are seen. We are affirmed by the witnessing of loving community. By the healing hands and words of our loves. We

you are a healer

Dec. 7, 2016 by

Loves, Before I get started, here’s a live video pinned to my fb page that I recorded yesterday, talking about how we are all healers, and how to bring your whole entire self into the work you do. I believe

even when you’re scared shitless

Oct. 19, 2016 by

My Loves, If you’re anything like me, you sometimes have a dip in your energy. You sometimes are filled with self-doubt. You sometimes can’t kick the overwhelm or calm the fatigue. You sometimes don’t know how brilliant and beautiful you

your voice is as radiant as the sun

Sep. 7, 2016 by

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it

your healed self is enough of a contribution

Aug. 11, 2016 by

My Loves: “Your healed self is enough of a contribution” -Rev. Angel Kyodo Williams {author of Radical Dharma: Talking Race, Love and Liberation} The quotation above is one of the only gems I actually wrote down from my week of

The Dying of Us: Letting Go

Oct. 14, 2015 by

Yesterday, my spouse and I came home to the awful smell of death. You know, that rotting, sour, pungent fragrance that you catch as you walk by something, quickly? My nose didn’t detect the death, but Sammy’s did. As I

&

Mar. 12, 2014 by

last night I read a poem written by another poet, Alexis Pauline Gumbs. i embodied this poem with my own breath, my own flesh, my tongue. i let it live inside me. i let it breathe out like a ceremony.