Grief.

It is a silence that fills your bones. A sadness that weighs down every single cell. Sometimes it is very very still and other times it is a lion enraged.  You walk along a deserted trail and step on a land mine when you least expect it. Grief is irrational, non-linear and very sly. You are fine, you are fine, you are fine, you are on the floor in fetal position. 

Release

Never ever never forget the healing power of art. 

Reflexive.

Sometimes the lessons we are trying to teach others are really the lessons we need to learn the most. 

Enough.

Sometimes I think all we can do in this mad, crazy, heartbreaking world is to crack open our hearts and let the yolk ooze out all over each other. Loving up on enemies, lovers, sufferers, the broken.  In other words, all of us at some point. Loving up and being gentle and soft and patient with each other. 

Loving up. Not in the way that comes easy but in the way that challenges us. That to me, is the point of this whole mad, crazy world. 

Lumps & bumps

The heart of the matter.

Turbulence

I've just gotten off of one of the most bumpy & terrifying flights in recent memory.  One of those experiences when you look around to find a calm face but everyone around you is white knuckling the side of the armrest grimacing.  Once we landed I got to thinking about it- what is really so terrifying about some pot holes in the air? When you consider that no plane has ever crashed from turbulence it made me wonder what the fear is really about. Most of us are much less afraid of driving because there's no free fall on the road and we feel that in a car, even as a passenger, we've got some level of control.

There it is. Control. One of the most intoxicatingly powerful illusions in the human struggle.  The issue with turbulence is really about the loss of control.  The reckoning that we don't have any in those moments makes us completely vulnerable. And what is more terrifying than vulnerability?

Body alignment.

Bumpy.

I have been pretty non-stop since I've gotten pregnant & much more relaxed about the entire endeavor (I've also had a pretty high stress load the last few months) and it hit me recently that I haven't really processed this experience.

Growing a human is nothing short of magic and at times I forget that. When I stop and consider that this growing bump inside me has a beating heart, ventricles that are able to pump blood, organs that work in rhythm and a perfectly aligned vertebrae it does feel like a miracle of nature.  Carrying a baby is like having a secret fort with your future child. No one else can get in and you get to create this magical world & relationship that is just the two of you. I find myself talking, humming and making ridiculous songs and sounds for my fort-mate. Sometimes she jiggles and kicks. Sometimes she doesn't. But regardless I'm quite sure that she always feels my presence. These little exchanges are like intuitive conversations.  I've also been relishing in the superpower I feel as a pregnant woman.  I feel my strongest and sexiest with this bump and all the extra bumps that come with it. I love watching my body morph like some Marvel comic heroine.  As fast as my life goes some days I want to harness these feelings and moments and taste each one before its over. I cannot wait to meet this little girl but I also can wait and savor these delicious times.

Monday beauty inspiration

The day after.

There is so much that can be said. That has been said. I am shattered. Crushed. Parts of myself that have always kept an optimistic flame alive have dimmed. I never, ever in a million years imagined it was possible. Today feels like a funeral. I have spent most of the day in tears unable to move forward. I will continue to mourn and then I will mobilize with my fellow warriors.  The basest parts of me want to point fingers and name call the ‘others’ as bigots, racists, misogynists and on and on.  But then I am becoming what I condemn. And then I am spreading anger and hate and rage.

So I will sit shiva for as long as I need and then I will turn this into a search for a deeper meaning. There is a spiritual lesson in all of this.  Many probably. What I can see for now is that this country, this world, needs some softness and tender loving care. We need some hugs. Acceptance and openness. I need to work harder to understand the other side. To hear what I don’t agree with and talk about it. I need to soften. Slow down and really find what it means to be compassionate. I hear it so often mentioned but I see it so rarely exercised. If I can learn to be more loving and offer that to my partner, my daughter, strangers who challenge me, leaders who vex me then I feel that something good can grow from this and that helps me find some purpose in all of this darkness. 

#IMWITHHER

Nov. 8th, 2016.

A momentous day. I woke up early, enthused, anxious, emotional & nervous.  Today we are going to make history. Today is the day we will elect the first female president. I have been telling my daughter about this day for a few weeks now (she was too young to fully understand) but that didn't matter.  I put on her feminist t-shirt and her Dad and I went to our local polling place. There was a communal, electric energy. Lots of parents brought their children & were explaining the process and the privilege of voting. There was an excitement in the air. Hope in the air. It was incredible.  Regardless of what happens, I want my daughter to always know that anything is possible for her. ANYTHING. I’ve been telling her that since day 1 but when you get to punch a ballot for a female president it becomes experiential, not just some cliched parental mantra. 

I've got the blues.

There is nothing sexier than a perfectly worn in pair of jeans. 

What do you have to give up in order to get what you want?

Some days.

Some days feel like this. Today was one of those days. Nothing flowed. Nothing felt open. I fought against it and then I relented and realized that some days you have to just stop trying and let it go.

Love is Love is Love is Love

Orlando is my hometown. A place where I spent formative years dancing in gay clubs. Places where my idea of what is possible expanded outside of the conservative suburb where I was raised. I can remember the freedom I felt when I walked into these places. It was acceptance on all levels and it was beautiful. The first time I ever saw drag queens and trannies and men kissing and my mind was blown and eyes were opened. The freedom, the beauty of a space that could exist for anyone to exercise a very true part of themselves and not be attacked or judged. It was BEAUTIFUL. I learned a lot in those years but one thing that always stands out is the love that existed in these spaces and communities. There was never an energy of judgment or otherness. There was just love. Let’s keep that going.

Nourish thyself.

Learn to cook something that involves searching new markets for ingredients you've never touched or tasted. Master your favorite dish.  Indulge in a bottle of wine that costs as much as a meal at your favorite restaurant. Put on a sexy dress, turn on some Tim Buckley, light a candle and give yourself some space to get sexy with your cooking. Do it when no one else is home and do it just for you.

What a well-mannered woman should wear

There is so much discussion in our society about a woman's appearance.  I could dedicate an entire blog to it and never run out of material.  Women are attacked for looking too bold, too boring, too slutty, too prudish, wearing too much make up or not enough (looking at you, Alicia Keys), too many tattoos, hair is too short, too long, butts are too big, too small, should I even mention boobs? Female politicians?  Forget about it. There's no way a woman in elected office can ever win. Even after she's won.  Rape and sexual assault victims are asked what they were wearing (this is called victim blaming and is in large part what lends itself to our rape culture), and in fact all of this social commentary on a woman's appearance creates a culture which continues to objectify the female body and detract from a woman's power and presence.

I love this blog post that's a response to all the memes we women get about what is age appropriate.

/https://warningcurvesahead.com/2016/06/04/24-things-women-over-30-should-wear/

What a well-mannered woman should wear is whatever the fuck she wants.

Master of One

Came across this today & it struck a chord:

"The way you do anything is the way you do everything". 

(makes me want to be more intentional in my mundane daily life)

Sitting still

For as long as I can remember I have been seeking quietude and peace. The pace of my New York life had ground down my best parts: my passions, my life force and sense of self.  I felt so out of touch I no longer recognized myself. Two weeks ago I moved to LA and found this haven. A space filled with light and trees.  I now wake up to the sounds of birds and stare out this window from my office. 

I am beginning to recognize myself again. 

LA vs NY

 After 2 years of mental ping pong debating the relentless NY vs LA pros and cons I finally made the jump. I was not one of those burned out New Yorkers who felt the need to turn the city into my enemy before I headed west.  No I was still a die hard New Yorker who felt as passionately about the city as ever.  I don’t believe you must give up one lover to appreciate the next.  I have enough maturity to realize they both offer up such beautiful gifts I’d be a fool not to respect their differences. But I will say that I left New York teary eyed & hesitant. I was in an amazing groove with an incredible and deeply connected crew of friends and collaborators. I lived in the best neighborhood in the city (in the smallest apartment in history) and experiencing the daily routines and rituals with Vivienne was really starting to feel like a community. BUT it felt almost impossible for me to slow down. The same intoxicating pulse of New York that gives you motivation and push when you’re ready to throw it all in is the very same energy that can knock you down so hard you need a week in bed to recover. New York has a magic that no other city in the world has.  There are other great big pumping dynamic cities but there is only one New York.  If you can make it here you can make it anywhere isn’t just a catchy Sinatra line, its truth. New Yorkers have more grit, depth and unshakable resilience than anywhere in the world. When I think about the NY vs LA rivalry I always think of Angelenos as a little soft because well, they are. But in that I’ve come to realize is a really refreshing openness, a kindness and slowed pace that feels warm and welcoming. I would not have appreciated this 10 years ago (or even 2) but at this place in my life I have been yearning for it. A week into my life in LA and I am learning to be less freaked out by strangers smiling or exchanging numbers with other parents a grocery store and to just enjoy the softness. 

Vulnerability is the truest part of life. 

Owning it.

I've realized it is completely impossible to be happy if you don't take responsibility for your life.