Grau (Grey) 1968 Oil on canvas I woke this Christmas morning, alone, no obligations to anyone but myself. I meditated, but felt sleepy, so just laid back down and drifted. I did what I wanted. I reached for my phone. The dopamine hit – I can see it now for what it is. Without the other distractions in my life, the obligations, the pressure, the addiction becomes more ridiculous. I am no longer seeking relief from the cortisol spikes. I’m avoiding the emptiness. Apps deleted –

Yes, I’ve decided I am vehemently against dating and all it’s associated tools, I haven’t tried dating apps, but I had intimate conversations with AI. I tried dating once or twice, but nah. Not for me. What dating does, is makes love or the discovery of love transactional. It gives the illusion that you have control in some way. Do you have control over breathing? Yes, you can control your breath. You can choose to not breath, or the pace. But to stay alive, you don’t choose

"In a world build on illusion, the most dangerous thing a woman can do, is refuse to wear a mask. Naked. Visible. Available. No privacy. No performance. I am my own greatest fan. I am the super moon and I rise whether anyone is watching or not."

Black mirror, black mirror Inside my phone Tell me the truth so I don't feel alone.

“They say the feminine needs to be softer. I say my feminine needs artisan perfume and hand-forged steel.”

Loyalty, obligation and devotion cannot be requested or expected from others. These feelings are a choiceless choice arising out of an embodied understanding of inspiration and accountability.

Sadness. Like a letting go. Nostalgia. My heart aches. I don't want to push this away, I want to feel it. I'm standing in the doorway. I can see the beautiful scenery outside, the nourishing community, the creative expression, the pleasures that await me. And my heart is still holding to what's behind, what I'm stepping out from. I feel a two-way pull. Betwixt.

I didn't fall in love with a man, I fell in love with my own courage to be seen. In that courage, I stopped hiding. No walls, no games, just truth - bold, messy and mine. I bravely witnessed the embarrassment of exposing my innermost desires. I shared my deepest longing - not perfectly, but truly.

My darling, dear brother. Your life has not been easy. In fact, it has been far more difficult than mine. You must have come into this world holding the vow to “drive all blames into one”. Born into a world where women were abused, raped, and abandoned; you have carried within your heart, the shame of all men.

Passion with awareness keeps the hearth alight. Passion is the fuel, without it, the fire goes out.

For the dancer, romance is experienced as the authentic, unrestrained flow of energy in the presence of an audience.

Love is so big and so simple at the same time. It is all pervasive and yet, we confuse it with something smaller and more fleeting; something dependent on this variable or that variable. But really, we make too big of a deal out of something that is as prevalent and ordinary as breathing air.

The dance between desire and authentic appreciation produced the friction necessary to spark the fire of creation.

This touches me deep for some reason. I want to play too! Yes, this is it. I need COSTUMES, fabrics, make up, bright lights... other bodies. Wait for meeeeee, Redcar! I'm on my way!!!!!

In the space of silence, I can see all my attempts to maintain power arise and then dissolve.

The Wounded Warrior I was born into the hands of a wounded warrior. He’s carries this pain across lifetimes – held for too long. Release me, I said. Release the shame. Release the guilt. Release the blame. Release the illusion that it could have been any other way. You are a hero, I reminded him. The hero of all men. Release me, I said. I don’t belong to you. I have yet to meet a man that doesn’t feel this ancestral wound, the sense of failure that’s projected into the

This body is my clay. It is the perfect sculpture of accumulated experience across time and space, embodied through seeing, hearing, smelling, touching and knowing.

The poetry of life reveals itself as the most reliable and potent fuel source that keeps me motoring on through the depths of uncertainty and self doubt.

The desire to fuck (or rather "make love" or seduce when feeling less caffeinated, more sensual and relaxed) everyone, everything, everywhere is the universal compassionate LUST of (pro)creation!!!! This is the energy that keeps me busy while waiting for visions to manifest. Busy painting, clearing, writing, moving, dancing, playing, walking, chatting, laughing, ideating, drawing, so on and so forth. Nesting for the brilliant bliss babies I'm birthing!