Sunday, July 6, 2014

Yoga Art!

Let what inspires you soak into all aspects of your living. Passion, determination, and patience will help. Explore ways to use your talents or discover a new one, by simply doing something you enjoy. Feel free! Let loose! Be silly! Be creative! 




See the Art tab for drawing descriptions and archives.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

a poem that flowed from my heart

I wrote this poem while in a bout of frustration. I was frustrated with how easily I saw people cover their true emotions and instead exude a false comment or facial expression, like when someone is smiling and you know they are not smiling on the inside. Or is it just me? I've been feeling lately that I am much more in tune with sensing authenticity, perhaps because I feel a sweeping change of myself, as if I've been digging and have found a new layer of my being. 

For the first time, I got up in front of a crowd at my college and read a poem, this poem, hoping that its words would reach out to someone and help peel back a few layers towards their true self. Tall order? I think not. I believe I have an influence on the world. 

When I read this poem, I expressed it as a spoken word pro might do, speeding up and slowing down, loud then soft, pausing. 
When you read it, try to read it with your heart. 

I was born into this mess
And through life I digress
Torn by judgement and ego
Our realization is too slow
I see you snide and act out
while morality becomes thin and stout
How can our world be a better place
when a candied mask is on your face?
The dirt piles and piles under the rug
the smile you smile is only smug
to "have it all" we must first be bare
strip our layers, all our cares
The answer must come from inside
no help from books, people, websites,
no guide through school, religion, exercise,
Nothing but the heart for the insight
But we layer our authenticity
with tattered fabric we cannot see
Ending in a blindness, a slow disease
The disease is our glutinous way
with a quick fix keeping sadness at bay
Enlightenment avoids a cluttered mind
it is a patient, vacant, subtle kind
We cannot preach with fangs for teeth
or pretend stone hearts have a beat
Lying and silence are sometimes the same
Not ill words, ill thoughts are to blame
so
How can we feel the sun's warmth,
with a veil over our face?
How can we experience love,
without humility or grace?
We must shed our skins, accept every scar
To find consciousness, who we really are.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Always a work in progress. Always move forward. Always be strong. 

Sunday, September 22, 2013

I keep tryin to find more and more inspiration to help drive my art and my yoga practice, 
finding something that serves both, now thats just fuckin amazing. This man artist is amazing, Karmym from Switzerland, worth checking out.


Thursday, June 27, 2013

Funny Craig's List Ad: Yoga Mat for Sale. Used once.

If you've done hot yoga before, you could pretty much relate to at least one of these hilariously and almost poetically written "experiences". This was being passed around on facebook recently, although it is from 2011.....but who cares, is still a gut splitter!
Original here.

Yoga Mat For Sale. Used Once.

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.
11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.
11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.
11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.
11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don’t exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.
12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.
12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.
12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other’s body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don’t worry, I’ll mention them later.)
12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.
12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I’m in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, “for better or worse” is what we committed to so we press on.
12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.
12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.
12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.
12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?
1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don’t get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!
1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.
1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can’t really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.
1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it’s voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It’s like juice and cracker time, ok?
1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?
1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and ‘cool down’ in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.
1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level – probably by 15 degrees. So let’s conservatively say it’s 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.
1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day’s turmoil and mental scaring.
1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein — effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.
3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the “shakes” consume my body.
4:29p
Note to self – check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.