Sunday, November 29, 2009

"Case of You" + Art Updates

My jaw dropped at the beauty of this piece, as I sat watching on my parents couch. "Case of You" is one of my all time favorite songs, and I couldn't imagine a more perfect dance than this one to do the song justice.

In other news...

Things have been so busy around here that I didn't even tell you the exciting news! I opened an ETSY store featuring many original paintings that would make great gifts for the holidays! Check it out here!

It took me a hell-of-a-lot to breakthrough my neurosis, perfectionism and doubt and finally put up my ETSY store. And let me tell you, even though I'm happy it's there, I'm still coming up against major road blocks in my heart.

So this week I'm dedicated to giving myself the space I need to work through my frozen places. With slow walks in the crisp autumn air to this magical haven of mouth-watering empandas, phone dates with soul-sisters, The Wizard of Oz, jasmine incense, this highly enjoyable book (have I mentioned I love John Green?), and this challenging but essential one.

What about you? What are you committed to giving yourself this week--amidst the holiday craze and consumerism-extravaganza--What small refuge will you offer to yourself?

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

once the last absolutes were torn to pieces...

November 1968

you're beginning to float free
up through the smoke of brushfires
and incinerators
the unleafed branches won't hold you
nor the radar aerials

You're what the autumn knew would happen
after the last collapse
of primary color
once the last absolutes were torn to pieces
you could begin

How you broke open, what sheathed you
until this moment
I know nothing about it
my ignorance of you amazes me
now that I watch you
starting to give yourself away
to the wind

-Adrienne Rich

This is my November poem. Thank you for writing, Adrienne Rich. For daring us to begin once we tear the last absolutes to pieces, once we shed our hefty layers. Your truth is magic to my ears.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

feelin good, nina simone

Birds flyin' high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me
yeah, its a new dawn its a new day its a new life for me ooooooooh

Fish in the sea, you know how I feel
River runnin' free you know how I feel
Blossom on the tree you know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me
And I'm feelin good

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what i mean dont you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleepin' peace when day is done that's what I mean
And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the crime you know how I feel
Your freedom is mine, and I know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me
(Free styling)

So many things I wish I knew how to tell you...

Really. There are.

I wish I knew how to tell you all the stories of all the times when I was just about to give up hope, but something came along and turned the tide in my direction.

Or that I know how it feels to compromise myself for the possibility of love, but that the only way real love has ever evolved in my life was from the stubborn determination to Offer Who I Am.

Or how hard it feels to stop telling myself lies about my own self-worth and potential. But how deep the pay off is when I do.

Or how much I'm riding on trust.

I wish I knew how to tell you that in between my endless pout over living in a basement apartment, there are moments in the early morning when that big jewel in the sky shines her rays right through my one window, right onto my morning cup of coffee, and warms my hands, reminding me to slow down, to be present.

I wish I knew how to tell you without so much fear that I have art waiting for you. That I've been creating like crazy over here, and that soon I'm going to let you in on my creations and pray that you'll want one.

And I wish I knew how to tell you that I know I'm making compromises right now--playing the "working woman" role, and leaving less time than I'd like for my soul work. But how I also know that I need this--at least one month without complete havoc over how I'll pay my rent.

I wish I knew how to tell you that I'm not afraid of the living the life I'm meant to live--I'm not afraid of my path. I'm ready for it. Today. This very minute. But even still, I find myself coming up against new edges, new fears, and having to contract again in order to expand again.

I wish I could tell you that I know what it's like to feel lost from my path. Like the universe is not on my side. When I'm wishing and dreaming and things still aren't coming true. But that all those things are part of my story. Part of the sadness and the struggle and the resistance that help me hope with even more heart.

I wish I knew how to tell you that having you here with me gives me courage, gives me trust, and helps me believe that I'm meant for this.

We are in this together. Our dreams are waiting for us. And the world needs us to be true to our hearts. Especially now during such desperate times. The world needs us to create more beauty--and beauty doesn't come from waiting for the right situation, the perfect moment, a better economy, or enough credentials. Beauty comes from the broken, the vulnerable, the honest, the true. It comes from the hopeful heart.

Today, even when I don't know how to express myself like I'd prefer, I come to you from my heart, offering myself to you as a partner-in-dreaming, hoping you'll say Yes.