Intension — in-tension — continues to reveal itself as the sacred stretch my Soul chose when it entered this Life School. At the Liminal Arts Residency, I felt the gravity of dream weaving, grief tendering, quilt making… and the reminder that “self-sufficient” — LOL — was never the point. We are meant to be witnessed.
Messy scraps of fabric became a glorious mosaic. Threads with their own agency. One sacred stitch in a subliminal time and space. Contemplation — oh, the contemplation. And the creation that came from the deconstruction of fabrics to the (re)construction - Oshun
Santa Fe’s pink skies. Dusty trails. Rough edges, curved lines. Golden thread. Sound bowls. Birds in still morning light. Homemade delicacies. Shadows dancing. Swaddled bones. A broom sweeping our ashes. Dream weavers, Stitching sisters, Black Mirrors, Tender bellies, raptured hearts. Pleasure + Pain. Grief + Love. Isolation and reclamation. Oshun’s River of Life. Bees and the hive hum.
We dismembered to (re)member.
I found — reclaimed — my Song.
All art is a sacred transmission. To be in relationship with art is to let it expand consciousness, to witness our collective becoming.
Eleven diverse women, bound by a commune thread: to heal, to steward a New Earth.
Most forget their Soul chose this curriculum. I’m remembering.
When I stepped into @lisuvega Lo Que Me Habita thefrankpembrokepines I felt a shift. The threads, oxidized fibers, suspended textiles, black and white photos, multilingual poetry: each element whispered of home and otherness, of absence and presence, of the invisible lives that dwell within us. The exhibit is a love story: to her ancestors, to herself, and what is seen and unseen in the liminal spaces. ❤️✨❤️
Bayshore Park—opened for us, by us. Funded through the hands and hearts of the Community, it reminds me of the safe havens of my childhood in rural PA, where parks held our laughter, our wonder, and our belonging.
Here, children run free. Butterflies weave their quiet dance. Trees stretch skyward as if in prayer. Within these grounds, I trust life is lived, solitude is honored, and spirit is felt.
A park is more than land—it is a woven web between nature and humanity, a place where our CommUnity, commonality that unifies) is remembered and reborn. 🌳🦋💫
Immersed in the work of @elliotanderick I felt layers of duality, surrender, and the divine feminine - an echo of my own time in Yoruba culture. Their art is both mirror and portal, where the unconscious breathes through Lucumà mysticism. Deep gratitude to their grandmother, whose stories live on in this soulful work. Honoring @pamm for curating with such fierce intentionality. In Yoruba tradition, twins hold sacred power—this exhibit holds that same reverence. ✨ Thank you @elliotanderick for you Soulful intentionality. #PAMM #Yoruba #Nigeria #Cuba #DivineFeminine
✨ Another trip around the sun ✨
This year, more than any other, I’ve lived in the dualities:
The ache of loss and the grace of healing.
The chaos of the world and the calm within.
The yearning to understand and the surrender to mystery.
Grief fractured my heart in ways only the soul can comprehend — yet it made space for a deeper gratitude to bloom.
There’s a strange and sacred stillness in being both broken and redeemed.
A quiet knowing that I am held, even when I do not know the way.
And in that space, I commune with Source —
Not seeking answers, just presence.
Today, I give thanks to the Divine within —
the breath that animates this body, the spark that remembers who I am.
This earthly mirror reflects all that I am becoming:
soft and strong, tender and true, grateful and grieving,
a soul in process, a spirit in motion.
Happy birthday to this becoming version of me.
I honor her. I love her. I welcome her home.
#BirthdayReflections #Duality #GriefAndGrace #GratitudeInBecoming
Even with Alzheimer’s, my father continues to teach me more than words ever could.
There are days when he forgets my name, but somehow remembers the essence of who I am. There are moments when time slips away from him, but his presence—his spirit—is more grounded than ever.
I watch him move through this world with grace, humility, and a quiet strength that humbles me. His wisdom shows up now not in long conversations, but in precious acts of kindness.
Alzheimer’s may be stealing his memories, but it can’t touch the soul of who he is. And that soul—my father’s soul—is one of the greatest teachers in my life.
He reminds me daily that love doesn’t need to be remembered to be felt, and that presence is the most profound wisdom of all.
I love you, Dad. Always learning from you. Always inspired. 🕊️❤️
#HappyFathersDay #DadWisdom #InspiredByYou #LoveRemembers #Gratitude
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Nestled in the bounty of nature, I answered the call of a soul-sister whose invitation led me into a circle of powerful women — each embodying her sovereignty with grace, fire, and deep remembrance. 🌿✨
Together we journeyed through realms seen and unseen…
We explored the mysteries of Sex Magik, activated the Egyptian codex within, and stepped through the portal of Salem with reverence and curiosity.
We nourished body, mind, and soul — with laughter, ritual, movement, and stillness.
It was sacred. It was sensual. It was a divine remembering.
Grateful for the connection, the mirror, the magic.
#SovereignSisterhood #DivineFeminine #SexMagik #SalemPortal #EgyptianWisdom #SacredRemembering #WombWisdom #NatureMedicine #MysticPath
Today we pause to honor mothers. But for me, every day is a quiet altar to you.
There is not a single day that passes where I don’t find myself creating sacred space—through a memory, a breath, a whisper, a moment of stillness—to commune with your spirit.
You are the pulse beneath my purpose, the voice in the silence, the warmth that still holds me when I feel untethered.
Even though your physical form has passed, your essence remains—woven into the fabric of who I am, guiding me, loving me, anchoring me.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! You are missed beyond measure and loved beyond time.
Loss - Loss is an inevitable thread woven into the fabric of life, yet we often rush past it, denying its presence or silencing its voice. MartĂn Prechtel, in his beautiful work The Smell of Rain on Dust, offers a profound lens through which to view our losses, reminding us: “Grief and Praise are renters whose landlord is Love.”
Grief and Praise are not opposites, but partners in a sacred dance. Grief is the heartache of what was, while Praise is the song of gratitude for what has been. Both emerge from the deep well of Love. Yet in our hurried, pragmatic lives, do we give grief the space it deserves, so that Praise can shine through?
Loss isn’t confined to death or grand moments of change. It exists in the tender, quiet transitions of life: when your daughter no longer needs you to tie her shoes, when a friend finds another confidant, or when the last golden leaf falls from the tree. Each of these moments holds a microcosm of loss, accompanied by the opportunity to grieve—and to praise.(continued in comments)
Resiliency is the lifeboat that carries us through the storms of suffering and despair, guiding us to the shore when the seas seem too rough to endure. Each of us holds a story—a testament to redemption, courage, and perseverance. The friend who endured two miscarriages and finally cradled her child in her arms. The premature baby, defying the odds alongside parents who clung to hope. The friend who put the gun down, choosing life against the pull of darkness. The weight of history threatened by erasure through genocide. The unfathomable loss of innocent lives to senseless violence.
These moments, though searing, forge the strongest threads in the tapestry of our shared humanity. They invite us to gather in the purest form of community, where pain is met with compassion and hope rises from despair. This is the essence of resiliency—a love interwoven by the Creator, binding us together with purpose. Step into Source, where our shared strength and love illuminate the path forward. Bind to Community - Common thread that Unifies…LOVE
Last night, I had the profound honor of experiencing the @novaexhibition in Miami—a powerful reminder of our shared humanity. The word Nova, a star that suddenly bursts with light before gradually returning to its original state, feels deeply symbolic. It speaks to the resilience of the human spirit: we too can experience moments of brilliance, even amidst darkness, and always find our way back to our essence.
This message carried me back to a moment at Burning Man, where I found myself captivated by what I thought was an art installation. A floating DNA strand inscribed with “Dance with the Angels” seemed to call out to me, as if it were my recently passed mother urging me to release my grief and embrace joy. As I looked up to a majestic tent above me, I realized the profound significance of the art—it was an invitation to reconnect with the meaning of life.
That memory was powerfully amplified last night. The thoughtful curation of the exhibition touched my heart, reminding me of the importance of unity and hope. My deepest thanks to @scooterbraun for bringing this project to life—not as a message of division, but as one of healing and collective strength. Thank you to the courageous speakers for sharing their truths and to @soakiba for so lovingly stewarding this meaningful Miami stop.
To all who face adversity, let us remember: hate and evil can never extinguish the divine light within us. As the exhibition so beautifully reminded me, we must never stop dancing. I implore everyone to witness this exhibit. #WeWillDanceAgain
