A Letter To My Soul

•July 4, 2014 • Leave a Comment

You are building your castle. Your foundation has been laid, it’s time for the bricks. Take your time, for what you are building is a space that many will enter. Your castle must be secure. It is precious. You are precious. Know this. Respect this. Have the love and patience to tread gently. With kindness, compassion, awareness and joy. Have fun too! It is okay to let people touch you. Some will inspire your gorgeous architecture, while others will not always have your best interest. You must have or work towards the self-love, acceptance and forgiveness to let them go, for they are as human as you, dear one. Those encounters will give your castle character. That’s beautiful. Let them. That doesn’t mean they’re worthy of a permanent place in the building blocks of your queendom. You are the only one who can lay the bricks! You are the walls. You are the sparkle, you are the moat and you are the bridge. They can only enter if you let them. Use your best judgement at hand, and be okay with making mistakes. These lessons are a part of your precious journey! I love you always and forever my dearest soul. You are divine. 

 

Wild

•July 2, 2014 • Leave a Comment

She was wild and her inner fire spilled out through her eyes. She believed once that she needed to change, and she set about trying to tame her inner dragon. By nature this was a silly game she played with herself. It reeked havoc on her bodily cage, her spirit clawing her insides desperate for freedom. She learned many lessons along the way and reached new heights, unleashing her mental demons and exploring introspective spaces untouched. Once she had had enough she broke away and flew to distant lands to recuperate. A great deal of damage had been done; she was wound up, the chains wrapped around her throat, suffocating her passionate demeanor. Unraveling would take twice as long as it took to wind herself up, and like a music box she began to open herself to the world once more. The harshness of these external forces charged abrasively through her, and amongst the chaos she floundered. As she arose from the ashes, wings spread, she took flight once more, this time with no intention of ever chaining her dragon again.

Loving her

•April 30, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Loving her was as easy as breathing.

Like a reflex, I tumbled into her. 

Amnesia set in and I had no idea how I’d arrived, 

only that she was the destination and there was no place I’d rather be

As she unfolded before my eyes I opened myself to her presence and took her in.

She filled me up and I was high on every flavor of her essence.

I wanted to understand the meaning of it all.

How something so precious could happen so precariously 

but she was slippery and unattainable. 

Or maybe I was holding back too.

It’s hard to trust the present moment when the past keeps spewing up broken promises.

Broken dreams. She reminded me how to smile. 

But I needed to learn how to love myself. 

There was a broken door with a broken key. 

Not even I could enter. 

She was love. 

On the other side of the mirror. 

She was the one I dreamed for. 

By the time I learned how to love myself 

distance had eaten away at every chance I never had. 

As I clung to the memory of what could have been

her presence faded into a shadow of my memory. 

How hard it is to let go. 

How ridiculously hard. 

 

 

 

I love you and forgive you, always.

•April 21, 2014 • Leave a Comment

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I want to feel the profoundness of all that is.

To bathe in my senses with total surrender.

To love every moment, because I am alive, and perfect just the way I am.

To enter every experience with an open heart and an open mind like a new beginning.

Because I am filled with all I will ever need

And I will always be enough.

Why traveling will change your life

•February 27, 2014 • Leave a Comment

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From an early age I had a taste for wanderlust. As a child my father and I used to take trips on the Amtrak across the country. I recall spending the long hours in the lounge car zoning out to Savage Garden, B2K, Houston, Ashanti, Alicia Keys, the Spice Girls… all the while star-struck by the fragile and intricate evolution of scenery from the flat dry planes and farm land of the midwest to the snowy mountain ridges of Montana. It was a meditative experience; I would write, draw and explore my inner world. I had my whole life ahead of me and a bountiful spring well of passion for what was and what would be. Something about mobility brings me peace. When the world is moving and I am still I see and feel flying colors that otherwise remain unnoticed, and well, I have always found comfort in chaos. When our external world remains relatively the same it establishes patterns of thought, feelings and emotions that become normalized. Being immersed within the constant variables of city life, a  9 to 5, the same people, culture, values and places of social engagements means that the spaces within in regards to perception change very little. Traveling is like highlighting blind spots. The spaces of familiarity sink away and the taste of possibility is a spoonful of everything. Senses are heightened, we feel free to think, let go and behave in ways we normally wouldn’t dream of. Judgement slips away because everything is out of context. We are in a whole new land of consciousness where patterns vary, from slightly to significantly. Why not exploit the privy of the unknown? Talk to strangers, try new foods, have new experiences, go on adventures and let go of the need to please, judge, act and remain too cool for school. If the world was your playground what would you do? I love the artistic inspiration I gain from the perspective of a new place. The enchantment of the unknown. It enlightens me with a sense of presence I feel conjointly with being onstage, but without the captivation of an audience. Being anonymous in a sea of unfamiliar faces. It’s an incredibly liberating feeling, when one doesn’t have an agenda. This is why when I travel I carry with me an open mind and an open heart. Setting this intention allows for a greater width and depth of experiences that may otherwise be hindered by fear. Traveling will most certainly push you out of your comfort zone. But the most rewarding part of this is the self-empowerment one achieves by creatively building new forms of affirmation. Don’t have home base to crawl to when the going gets tough? Self-comfort. Language barrier? Hand gestures and eye contact. A willingness to connect and be vulnerable is often essential. I love opportunities such as Couch Surfing- a social network for travelers to stay, connect, and swap stories with locals from the towns or cities I want to visit. FOR FREE! Being a host is a cool way to connect with travelers as well. Hostels are interesting because you meet other foreigners who are most of the time up for the same, spontaneous adventures as you. Some hostels even let you stay for free in exchange for volunteering, or playing music. WWOOFing (organic farming in exchange for room and board) is another brilliant option. The 6 months I spent in Europe studying and traveling were some of the most exhilarating experiences of my life.  I was 19 years old and a Sophomore in college. Being highly ambitious I traveled through 18 different countries. Although I didn’t spend more than 6 days anywhere but Seville and Copenhagen, the cities where I spent my studies, it gave me a taste of where I liked and didn’t like and the places I wanted to return to for more extensive visits. Traveling, for me, is a way of stepping out of my comfort zone, evaluating, from a new vantage point, my life and stripping all the layers away to what truly matters. You learn that you can survive off of very little and be happy. You smash your way through presumptuous entitlement and false pretenses of the ways of the world. When you finally make your way back “home” you will never be the same.

*Original photo belonging to Elena

The Artist

•February 26, 2014 • Leave a Comment

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The depicted lifestyle of an artist is an incredibly romanticized dreamworld painted in black and white with very little color. The irony of this is that the very nature of artistic endeavors is about exploring the shades of things that usually go unnoticed. While polarities, contrast and the structure of things are common exploratory concepts the artist must be cautious not to get “stuck” in confined or limited spaces. It may hinder the creative experience, which is all about exploring novelty, the spaces in between and being able to captivate these new constructs in tangible form. Still I have found in my own process that the best art comes from the depths of total immersion. The artist has a way of recognizing humanity in all its vulnerability and rawness. I believe there is some misguidance on the nature of this vulnerability. Culturally it is often seen as “weak”. To me it is the complete opposite. It has taken an incredible amount of strength and endurance to tap into that level of intimacy with confidence and conviction. It takes total faith and belief in one’s process. It also means consistently countering the flow of social consciousness and being comfortable with solitude. One must have the willpower to act in and of oneself despite the consequences of isolation, alienation or social stigma. One must be fearlessly impassioned to the point of no return. There is nothing weak about it. It is one of the most powerful, strong and dangerous journeys I know. There is a fragile relationship between the artist and their audience, that has come to be exploited in mainstream culture and ideology. The artist is put on a Godly pedestal, where they become a sliced and diced one dimensional object of glamour and status, immortalized into a fantasy figure of perfection. Their life is no longer their own, and the irony is this immortal fantasy is the total opposite of what the artistic process is all about. Because of the vulnerability the artist displays to their audience, sometimes there is a mistaken belief that the audience is now privy to the ownership of this individual. This plays out in different ways, depending on the nature of the artist and the way they are perceived in relationship to culture, social norms and stigmas. There are certain boundaries the artist realizes they have to maintain in order to protect their solitude and freedom, pushing them further into isolation. There is a speech by JFK in honor of Robert Frost, that I believe is an entirely accurate depiction of the artistic condition. Ultimately how ever challenging la vida de la artista can be, it is also powerful, uplifting and sensational beyond measure. Life is sweet and bitter and the best road taken is the one doused in delicious. Once you have a taste of creative freedom the desire to turn back is all but a forgotten fantasy tainted by the shadow of illusion.

*photo credit:

http://www.xiscopeculiar.com

Endless

•February 25, 2014 • Leave a Comment

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This fall during my spectacular existential crisis I came to the most sensational truth: I am endless. It was nothing like a “big bang” although I do recall an evening where I slipped off the deep end. Overall it was mostly a slow and steady slippery slope with bits of rock , dips and crevices here and there. It was an introversion of the mind, an inward spiral towards self-actualization, love and acceptance.  As a sweet young thing I was always on the go, a dreamer, plotting my next adventure, my future and my conquering of the world. Geometrically speaking I always chose the acute angles. The roughest most biting abrasions that would push me from my comfort zone with a shattering jolt. Yet because of its wearing familiarity rather than pushing me it eventually became an excuse. Like any pattern of repetition, with consistency and habit it becomes a comfort zone. It was a bit disorienting because I never was one to choose “linear” paths. I chose chaos. I loved getting “lost” because it was when I felt the freedom of an autonomous dance. When I would find bits and pieces of myself that would cause me to raise an inward brow and leave me smirking despite myself. It was like a game. But as a young lass trying to understand herself in a sea of structures irrelevant to her sense of reality, I was left speechless. I felt trapped in a tunnel of two truths- conform and be miserable or defy and be isolated. Being “stuck” was not a sense of direction that I took to. It terrified me. So I kept running. In retrospect it’s hard to pinpoint what exactly I was running from, and what I felt I needed to prove. I think in a way I was running from myself. Trying desperately to find an external sign that would point me in the direction of my destiny. I was afraid I was not enough. That if I took a peek within there would be nothing of substance, and that would be my demise. Everything I dreamed of would fall apart and lose its meaning in my heart. It’s true. When I had my crisis I realized that ultimately I am a boiling pot of energy and that can sum up to a whole lot of “nothingness”. Or, it can be more than that. Because What I discovered, was that I became what I chose to believe. That ultimately I was nothing and everything, and that my being, if I wanted to be “something”, was about the sum of my parts and what I chose to do with them. It was about taking action, from the inside out. Focusing on the life I wanted to build and lead. It was about appreciating the daily intricacies, the conversations I had with myself, the connections I shared with others, and learning to trust my inner goddess. Learning to find my own sense of balance and believing that I am worthy enough for the peace of mind, body and spirit that it brings me. When I disassembled myself and, as I mentioned early on, “went off the deep end” one evening whilst reading an essay on political philosophy (this is why I don’t do drugs- I only need to pick up a book and my brain does fireworks) what I found at the bottom, what I had been hiding from myself, was love and music. The two things that I longed for most but that I believed I didn’t deserve. Keeping on was a choice I had to make, and no one could make for me. If I wanted to be endless, I needed to stop ending things and commit. Commit to loving myself, trusting myself and believing in myself. Be the person I wanted to be rather than wishing I could be her. Start accepting and embracing the person I was in the moment, and let go of the person who no longer resonated with my spirit. When I stopped trying to prove that I was smart enough, interesting enough, good enough, It suddenly came to be. I was enough. There was no overcompensating, no over-stretching myself in directions that did not make my spirit dance. No bitter resentment, judgement and pretentiousness. I fell in love. With life, with the world. I began to see beauty everywhere and embrace my stillness not as getting “stuck” but as a starting point for anywhere. The truth is everywhere. It’s simply a matter of perception. Perspective. A vantage point. A lens. A pattern. The truth is, endless. 

 
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