Let it Burn

I have endured my fair share of emotional pain in my life. I first started my yoga journey, one hundred pounds heavier and full of self loathing, standing winded at the top of the single story steps to the studio with unease in my heart. I had recently moved to Pittsburgh to start a new life, leaving a career in EMS in New York to earn my masters degree in teaching.  The rent prices then were easily manageable with a meager hourly wage and my tuition costs included some living expenses. Because I was alone, unmarried without family in a 2000 mile radius, I hedged my bets on self-improvement in the vein of my own education. While this may seem logical, to continue to go to school for greater career goals and financial independence, it was more that somewhere deep inside me I knew I was worthy a good life. This spark of resiliency, is key, I think, to healing emotional pain and trauma. 

When I took my first yoga class at 25, I had such a terrible relationship with my body and my feelings. I felt I wasn’t enough. Period.  If I had been enough my parents wouldn’t have physically hurt me, or drank, or caused so much deep emotional pain. Lovers would have stayed loyal, been kind, listened to me and treated me with respect. Love was missing from the outside world and, therefore, within. 

I had been fighting the idea of yoga for years. During my time as an undergraduate the yoga studio down the street offered $2 classes. I was encouraged by everyone to attend. They said I would love it, it would be so good for me. I resisted, fearing I would start crying if I had to walk into a room full of strangers and be told I was worthy of love. Little did I know that, yes I would absolutely cry, but that would be much later and extremely liberating. Because the cry we have during our yoga or meditation is our truth bubbling to to surface and letting go of self-doubt and emotional pain or blockage. It’s very healing. 

In my own studio I tell my yoga students with a grin ‘If you aren’t crying, I’m not doing my job!’ Inciting laughter. They laugh because there is a undeniable untold understanding that they are safe to cry and let go with me. Those who are not ready don’t practice with me, and those who are edging the line keep coming back. 

I found a spot on the floor and clumsily laid down my mat somewhere in the back of the small homey studio. The light sifting through the second story windows warmed the pine floors and the soft sent of incense clung in the air. I listened, mouth agape, as the teacher, a total stranger to me, explained that today’s class would be about transitions into a new phase of our lives. She handed out small pieces of green backed paper and told us to write one thing we wanted to let go of, and one thing we wanted to bring into our lives to replace it. Once we were done we were instructed to fold the paper up tightly and tuck under the top of our mat- and after class we were to burn it. 

I didn’t know at the time that this was a fire ceremony surrounding the idea of cleansing and transformation, or that I would continue to practice and lead them. I only knew that this resonated so deeply to my feelings (vibration)  I could no longer deny it. Yoga and it’s philosophies would be like a salve to my wounds, and enable me too stand in my truth as a light worker and teacher to those who are open to it.  

That day in the studio something cracked inside of me and a small ember was lit into a tiny little flame in my belly. The truth is, that once that flame is lit, nothing in this world can extinguish it. It is that small little light that shines outward clearing away the darkness, the hurt, the emotional pain. Reflecting on that light, feeling it’s warmth on the cold days, is like a hot bath that comes from within. 

If you are reading this then your spark has already been lit and can never be extinguished. Always know, you are so worthy of this little flame within you. Let it burn baby. 

Allow Her to be Silenced

I have learned a great deal about anger in the past year. 

In the past I was shunned and belittled my anger, told things like ‘I don’t deserve your anger.’ Or ‘Your anger scares me.’ 

I have come to understand that anger was really my soul feeling deeply sorrowful, something was crossing my natural vibration, causing discourse through my system and ultimately bringing me to great anger as a very human and honest response to pain. 

How we express our emotional pain is just as valid as the expression physical pain. I believe that actively trying to rigidly control our emotional outbursts is more detrimental to our health then constructively expressing it.

Recently, someones actions hurt me and in response I got angry, stood my ground and raised my voice to this person. I felt a twinge of guilt for my anger as I started to question my reaction. I was taught to be ‘in control of myself at all times’, discipline and militaristic ideals that dismissed my passion, feelings, divine intuition, as well as my softness: was my trigger to sharp and unjust? Was the snap of pain I felt in my core valid? Was I being ‘too sensitive’? Was I blaming this person for someone else’s sins? Should I have just let it go? 

The answer was no to these and many other questions aimed at loosening my feelings validity.  My emotional pain was real, true, and identifiable. 

I feel that so many woman are trying to put themselves into boxes that the world tried to carve out for us to live in when it comes to our emotions. 

If I had metaphorically swallowed back that feeling of being emotionally hurt, which is really translates into allowing my self-worth to harmed, I would have felt sick to my stomach. Like food poisoning these deep feelings would have made me feel physically ill. Over time I would have felt the consequences of not speaking my truth in a more physical manifested presence through disease (dis-ease). 

To make matters worse, I would have come to resent the person who hurt me and a rift would form vibrationally as I tried to sweep my feelings under the rug. 

I was born into a home that was unhealthy, you can watch my documentary ‘Pura Vida’ here. I was given the opportunity to experience compounded trauma and work through it. I know that I will never hear ‘I’m sorry.’ from those who have hurt me the most. For a long time my soul was deeply saddened by this. The little girl that lives within my chest was vulnerable and in mourning, unable to processes deep wounds all by herself.  It helped to know that the pain is real and valid. Any feeling that comes up such as: anger, depression, moodiness, wanting to be alone, fear, and many more are all totally natural responses to your inner child feeling wounded. 

If we fail to respond to this pain by acknowledging it and accepting that it is real, we get sick. This is a universal truth- it rots us from the inside out. There have been countless movies, books, shows, plays, stories, etc. of this tail, the protagonist fighting with herself to heal her pain and move forward. But, here is what they fail to mention in these stories, I know you will agree that this is true, the sickness doesn’t end with you unless you work through it. Your children, children’s children, distant relatives, will all feel the echo of your pain for generations if you don’t property see it, embrace it, and love yourself through it with unrelenting will. 

This is the beauty in anger; when we are moved to express, scream, yell, say our truth even if it’s shaky, it can’t cause us any more harm because the universe has accepted it as our divine truth and thus our vibration is free of discord. 

If you are not there yet, that is ok. Write it, burn the letters. Paint it, destroy the canvas. Sing it, and don’t record it. Break the glass against the wall. Run until you can’t any more. Move through the yoga flow until you break down in tears. Just keep working on it. The child within your heart is gorgeous and worthy of your love and dedication, never allow her to be silenced.

And when in doubt listen to some country music…

Under the Pines

Finally I must admit that there is no better time then the present and no better thing to be then ones true self.

Living presently is much harder then we give it credit for and being ones authentic self is much scarier then I think we like to admit.

Let’s be honest though, the true point in looking to ones past, should be only to reflect and make sure we don’t continue to make the same mistakes, repeating the same cycles, and craving the same unhealthy desires that brought us any sort of discomfort or misery. That is, unless of course you enjoy nostalgia.

The future too, is not certain, which should be pretty obvious at this point by the global pandemic that we are sitting in currently, also, what I have learned of late, tomorrows are not promised.

The “authentic self” or as I like to call it ‘divine self, or true self’ is something I have a very hard time opening up about to anyone. Though most of my demons have been quieted and my shadow work is just about cleaned up and all feels fine in my energetic field, I still feel a certain rawness to who I am. I consider this a vulnerability that feels like an Achilles heel.

Maybe my ‘give a damn’ busted off at some point through the turbulent waters of my recent divorce and personal devastating losses. Maybe the pressure of compounded isolation in the deep woods of upstate New York has cracked some sort of internal shell of underlying truth; in reality we are all finite, as is pleasure and pain, and yet we are eternal, as is love.

I have stopped looking for the ‘whys’ they don’t hold as much relevance for me anymore. Not personally, not in my artwork, my job, nor my relationships or personal journey. I don’t really care ‘why’ so much as I care that it is. I have held myself back for so long, trying to fit into a little bubble that has caged me since my birth, forced upon me with all of it’s rules and confines. What I can and can’t express, expect, be, say, do. A mutilation of my divine sense of autonomy.

I write here with naked heart because I am no longer ashamed of my pure being. I am who I am, and that light will never go out now that it as been lit a blaze.

In addition to the full enjoyment of my life’s creation, my only reason for being put in his body is to share my stories and experiences so that they may serve as your road map. I have weathered storms that many girls and women will face or are currently surviving. My inner child is here to hold hands with your inner child, she is a friendly girl who will love you hard without condition. I am her armor, knight, and protector.

Let us walk, tender footed under the pines, in oneness.

Finders Keepers

We have all heard of "pay it forward" It was popularized by the movie that bares it's title. For me, abandoning a little piece of myself around the world is my way of paying it forward. I am fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to earn my education, the income to buy my supplies, and the fortitude to pursue my dreams. Besides being a teacher and sharing my gifts with my students, I hope to make the world a better place with my art work.

Life can be challenging for the everyday artist. Amusingly coined 'a dime a dozen', it can be challenging to continue in the calling; dreams and careers often feel like uphill battles. There has long since been debates about what the purpose of art is. Some believe art for art itself or for the purpose of making something beautiful, others think it should make meaning of the world or act as a stamp in the human time record, or that art should be used for design in products, architecture, and topography; and then there is a group that don't believe art has a place in the world at all.

I believe art changes the world. Art has the capability to impact the individual and the masses. Art can be a therapy used to help people to better understand themselves and how they think and feel. It can be a tool to educate and communicate ideas with others. It can also be a combination of all things, good, bad and ugly. 

I am telling you this because I got some feedback recently and I think it goes to show how small a act of kindness can  change someones day and shift their perspective. A piece of artwork can embody this for eternally, when the viewer gazes upon it they recall how it made them feel. I like to think of it as a golden egg found in tall grass, every time the finder sees the egg they are once again transported back to that moment of glee and wonder in which they found it.

I like to leave little pieces of art work where I visit frequently. This is a picture of one of the pieces I have left at Starbucks, along with many others, over the past few months.

This is the note that I revived in my inbox when I came home after abandoning another piece.

“Thank you! My boyfriend and I stopped for a snack at Starbucks on the way to our lawyers office to sign closing papers for our new house! The universe knows what an important day today is for us and our family and this piece of art will always remind us of this exact moment in our lives!”

— Thank you so much, L & J

I abandoned this piece when I was on a girls weekend in Long Island.

A few days latter this turned up in my Facebook messenger.

It's obvious by the joy and gratefulness that these finders express that what I did mattered to them. Maybe they will hang the piece in their brand new home to commemorate the day, or add it to an already established collection, or give it away as a gift.

Whenever I doubt myself and my purpose, or when I'm faced with a challenge or problem and become discouraged, all I have to do is pull up one of these messages and remind myself that I am changing the world, creating positive little ripples through out the pond of life.

In the end isn't that the job of an artist, to make the world a better place by doing what we love?

I think so.

Partner in Art Abandonment

Last time I wrote about Jenn laughing at my idea to leave my artwork around town and only to be drawn to the experience like a moth to the flame.

Jenn co owns a bug spray business, Paper Street Soap Co. in Gardiner with her younger brother Michael. They have a small office that it outfitted with a lot of blank wall space in a enchanting Victorian building at the heart of Gardner NY. Jenn approached me about doing an Solo Show in the space and of course I agreed. I am going to be showing my portraiture; self portraits and a painting series from my book 'The Unchaste' on Friday August 25th, 6pm-9pm.

Because Jenn and I are a dynamic duo, ripping through projects and executing new ideas, we can comfortably challenge each other by pushing one and other out of her comfort zone. This being said I brought my paintings along to be abandoned around her neighborhood when I drove up to visit for lunch last week.

I piled my work into her car and told her to stop by a farm stand by her house. She was hooked the second she saw me leave the car with a small painting and place it on a bench only to return without engaging with a single person. Her eyes big as the moon 'That's it? You just leave it there and hope someone finds it?" 

"Yeah," I said "Do you want to do the next one?"

So we drove up to Lake Minnewaska and then to the over look. She wanted to stay and wait for someone to find the panting, to watch their faces light up and pick it up in their hands, to see what they would do with it after they read the card taped to the front of it. As we were leaving the overlook a woman did approach the painting, cautiously she pretend to ignore that it was there, only to look around for its owner before approaching it. Her face was studding the card, still unsure about what action she should take when Jenn and I rolled out of the parking lot.

"Do you think she took it?" Jenn asked me.

The beauty is we will never know, but something in me says she did.

Abandonded Art- A Karmic Experience

Like many artists, I have a whole garage full of artwork accumulating dust, untouched and unseen, even pieces that were floating around in series that were on display and received viewer praise, if it didn't sell it ended up on the shelf.

I started doing some research on where to donate my existing work and came up with a lot of dead ends. Nonprofits, such as hospitals or nursing homes, are looking for very specific donations and my work just didn't fit the bill.

I suppose we can call it desperation when I typed 'What to do with your old artwork?' into the Google search and found 'The Abandoned Art Project'. After watching a couple of videos I was so inspired I reached out to my buddy Jenn, my personal cheerleader, whose first reaction was to laugh the idea. How could I want to deposit my hard work, like highly polished gumballs, around the Neighborhood with no reward.

I told her 'Karma Jenn, that's what this is about.' I know how good it feels to find a gem, it can shift someones whole perspective, change their mood, change the day, give someone a sense of connection to a community that they might feel estranged to.

And so It began. That very day I dropped off 6 pieces of art around Cold Spring NY. It was a rush of excitement and vulnerability, leaving pieces of myself around for either an adoring fan or worst, the city cleanup crew to find. I left each piece saying to myself, 'What ever will be, will be.' and with a little prayer hoped that someone who needed the joy would find what was waiting for them on stairwell steps, stone fences, and backstreet sidewalks.

Jenn became my partner in abandonment, honestly she gets a higher high then I do from leaving the work out in the open, awaiting discovery. She tells me it's like a great rush, like a social experiment, she wants to see the faces of those lucky souls who find it. Secretly I do to, but I'm also ok with not knowing.