Camino Series: Astorga, Day 24

6 June 2013

It's about finding truth in myself.

Walking has become therapy. I can move forward, feel my muscles, bones, nerves, joints… and breathing…. and accept the pain, accept the worries, judgements, fear, and incessant planning, and let them go. They all exist in me and will arise but they don't dictate the trajectory of my life negatively, only in the way I am supposed to go.

 I keep getting blisters. It was perplexing until I realized that there will always be pain, as in life, same on the camino. I could get angry or cry about it…. or accept it, live with it, and also let it go.

The walking is beautiful. I am so thankful for every day that passes, each day to put a foot in front of the next. I didn't even look at the guide book today, we just woke up and started walking.

Camino Series: Hornillos, Day 14

29 May 2013

Right near the end of the day, Jess and I rounded over the top of a magnificent hill, looking down on the village below and in the distance… the wind! It was SO strong! So much bigger than us! As we walked downhill, allowing our weight to fall, the wind counter-balanced us, kept us upright… Jess said that she felt like she was on the moon! I felt like I could fly. My arms outstretched, the wind passing through every cell of my body, I felt so whole and alive. My heart pumping, breath coming and expelling, the grass going the same direction my hair was, the air fresh, clean, and clear. We let ourselves surrender, laughing.

Scidentity: Self Portrait with Orange Hair

This piece illustrates self-portraiture featuring the artist’s tool as the subject, almost as if it were part of the artist herself. Self-portraits such as this are becoming more popular as photographers use and show their cameras to portray themselves, as opposed to concealing their instrument.

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This post was inspired by the upcoming exhibition Scidentity, curated by Boston LGBT Artist Alliance (BLAA)

Scidentity is an exploration of 21^st century science and technological advances in relation to developing identity politics.  

For more info on the exhibition visit:

BLAA Website

Camino Series: My, how a year passes

A year ago, I fled. Things were not going well. Dissatisfied, scared, desperate, lonely, confused…I knew I had to go. Needed drastic change. So, I left New York to go to London. A place I felt drawn to, especially artistically. My beautiful friends all supported me, told me I was brave, but it's never been easy. I'm not going to pretend that putting myself out there, traveling, hasn't been terrifying. My relationship with the unknown is one that I am continually exploring and cultivating. But, regardless of the fear, those pangs of intuition… the voice deep inside my heart that whispers… "it is time to move"… is something I can't ignore. Just ask my dear friend Jess, (actually both of my dear friends named Jess) and they will tell you that 24 hours before my flight to London over a year ago, I was a wreck. Not unlike the first time I bought my solo ticket overseas for my first three months of travel alone. Crying and scared, second guessing my ability to handle the world and life decisions in the face of the abyss of the unknown... I recognized the feelings of fear as something that I am working on. I am practicing not giving it power, and instead sending it compassion and love... not letting the fear debilitate me as it had in the past. Because in the end, we must do what our hearts are yearning for. When something, someone, is calling my name… when I am able to let go, be honest and true to myself, it is most important for me to go there, to them, and follow through. There have been many times in my past when I didn't, and learned the lesson... that I don't want to live with regret.

London. Being in a brand-new city, not knowing anyone… was isolating. Falling down a slope I knew only too well, a slope that led to debilitating despair that I still didn't have the tools to deal with alone. I started reading avidly, so many books, going to performances, museums, shifting my mindset to where I felt happiness… as a student. Choosing my own 'curriculum' as a student of life. I knew that a turning point must be near, wanting only to be a sponge for all that was good, honest and true. It gave me much needed time to learn how to relate to myself again. Spending quality time with me. Walking, observing life, writing, sketching, visiting sights I'd read about and studied my entire life, finding a connection to the city on a very personal level.  During this time in London, the discontent of my own inadequacy of my art form was ruling me. Stuck in this familiar state of mind that I so badly wanted to change... feeling like a failure. Then fracturing my elbow in a dance class forced me to stop dancing for half the time I was in the city. By the end of my time in London, drained and hungry... the next step? There was no other option, the ONLY thing I could do was to go on pilgrimage. It was what my heart was screaming for and that filled me with purpose. To strip away all societal responsibility, all expectations of myself about my trajectory of life, to have one task, to devote myself to one intention, and that was to continue walking forward. I knew it was the most important thing I could do in my life right at that moment.

Jess met me in London and we flew to France together. We started the journey that changed both of our lives immensely. It was humbling and comforting to be traveling alongside a friend. For the year before that, I had been traveling, backpacking, alone... and this was the first time I was embarking on a journey with a companion! A companion who I trust completely, and is a sister to me.

The Camino de Santiago… it has become popular in the past few years because of a movie that came out called "The Way".  I had never heard of the movie. I had never heard about the camino until the previous summer. The summer I was in Vienna, one of our roommates, Emanuel, told me of his sister who had done a pilgrimage biking across Asia! I had never heard of a "modern-day" pilgrimage, and thought only major athletes could do long treks like that… I started picking his brain. He told me of pilgrimages in Russia, Italy, Israel, and Spain. He then began to describe the Camino de Santiago... How the medieval pilgrims would journey from their homes all across Europe to pay respects to the remains of Saint James in Santiago, and then journey a little farther to the Atlantic Ocean… Finisterre… the end of the earth. Usually, it was their first and only time seeing the ocean, and what was at that time in history, the end of everything that they knew to exist in this world. They would take a shell from the shore and bring it back to their families, a symbol of their journey. Even today, pilgrims tie a shell to their pack so that others will know their purpose. I knew that this was going to be a journey I'd take at some point in my life, but never could have dreamed that a year later, and a year ago today, we'd be in France getting our first stamp in our pilgrim credentials.

This journey continues to teach me every single day. In beautiful, unexpected ways. It was difficult, and there were many tears, many days I walked all day alone, but ultimately helped me begin to heal in a way that I have no words to express except gratitude. The 34 days of pilgrimage, physical exertion, constant change of weather, landscape, beds, lessons, and some of the most open hearts I have ever met in my entire life… The spirit of the camino lives through us, and every day since… like I was taught by the countless pilgrims who touched me on that journey, and reflecting on all the people I know from my life before, after, and through… to live with the intention to become a more open, honest, and loving person. A shift in perspective. I wouldn't be where I am today if not for the trajectory the camino helped me find. To open my heart. To learn to communicate more deeply and fluidly. To appreciate the moment we are in right now. To let go of debilitating expectations of ourselves and others and just move forward, no matter what.

In honor of the journey that changed my life… happy one year camino anniversary!

 (Photos I took on the road)

To my siStars Jess, Martha, Emma and fellow pilgrims Jost, Vinka, Linda, Dean, Clint, Richard, Helena, Martin, and all those we met along the way.

The Brightest, Fiercest Light

When I look in the mirror, I no longer see crippling ugliness.

I no longer feel pain rooted in fear, sprouted from shame. I no longer stare at myself as I project and predict other people's reactions to me. I'm most afraid of being judged by people who are attracted to me. Second, by strangers and those who respect me. Third, by the ones I love and who love me the most. The people I am most comfortable around. I am not afraid because they don't judge me, never have, and never will. That doesn't mean they haven't made fun of me. But it is never with malicious intent. I never see their eyes as stun rays ready to ignite a fiery rage in my heart.

I am so used to looking at my own face and seeing reflected only the flaws. I am so used to skipping over my eyes, where all of the paradoxical wonder, the mystery and openness of my soul resides.

When I look into a mirror, I am no longer horrified at what I have considered the most despicable parts of me since I first learned how to judge. My worst critic was myself, is myself, will always be myself. I have been unforgiving and stone cold for so many years. My eyes hold secrets that I am unaware of, guilt so deep I need more than my thoughts to reach down and grasp and pull and gently, listen….and yank and pull and yank and pull and….

I will not unveil any answers to myself if this is how I go about it. I cannot go deep if I am causing a ruckus on the surface of my soul. I will not give anything away to anyone who is demanding. Even if I do this consciously, my subconscious will not allow it. Even when I do it consciously, my subconscious is screaming… reminding me that I am degrading myself by accepting disrespect. I make…. made an exception when it was myself.

I know now that I need to approach myself gently, stay open and wait… wait for what I need to drift up to the surface. Only then will I be able to completely accept myself. This deepest understanding can only come from a silent mind and a clairvoyant spirit.

When I looked into the mirror, I saw imperfection. But now, upon observing it, I acknowledge its existence, because denial is suppression and suppression leads back to the infinite loop of shame. Judgement is no longer invited, but complete acceptance still does not reign the enchanted mystic, cryptic vault and boundless garden that is my mind. My imperfections are humanizing, and humans are beautiful.

Like a Russian nesting doll, we have layers of complexities, existing in a universe that we will never be able to cognitively process. The release of control and the compulsion to understand, to comprehend, is beautiful. We live within and contain organized chaos. We live in an environment that shelters our bodies from obliteration, our bodies protect our cells from obliteration, these cells shelter tinier specks of stardust that are the result of complete obliteration, the manifestation of the universe.

My imagination is simultaneously the bane of my existence and the brightest, fiercest light in my life.

Scidentity: Little Helping Hands

This piece represents the exposure of technology to younger generations. It is a statement about how they are learning due to the mentorship from those of older generations.

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This post was inspired by the upcoming exhibition Scidentity, curated by Boston LGBT Artist Alliance (BLAA)

Scidentity is an exploration of 21^st century science and technological advances in relation to developing identity politics.  

For more info on the exhibition visit:

BLAA Website

Learning how to live with levity

Life can become so serious
When you forget how to play
When the fresh air is just a means to go
from house to car in anguish. Defeated
Disconnected and
You still complain about the weather?
In another lifetime, I played in the pouring rain,
jumping from puddle to lake,
through frigid kingdoms,
sending invitations to muddy tea parties,
struggling to keep my silent mouse family alive
in a broken hollow tree,
wrapped in white blankets
journeying through a wintery desert…

When laughter overtakes me,
discomfort is a past memory.
I had forgotten the joy
in playing with the frozen ground
Not just upon it
And even the most blustery day
can hold an adventure or two…

When you look out the window and decide
how you will approach today,
Take a deep breath
to taste the sea…
Only then can you can decide,
and only then you can truly see.
Now more than ever, my friend,
will you come out and play with me?