EXPLORING the SEEN and UNSEEN MYSTERIES of MATTER and SPIRIT THROUGH THE BODY, EARTH, PSYCHE and SOUL
a CEREMONY OF
SOIL, SOMA and SOUL.
BODY and EARTH as
COMPASSIONATE WITNESSES.
A ceremony for her. The one you’ll be in 30, 40, 50 years. For the one you wake up as tomorrow. A wild & creative container for women to celebrate the heroine’s journey. To return to inhabiting that wild creatura of god, celebrating the chapter, and dancing with the divine.
EMBRACING our MARKINGS of MATTER, BLEEDING the POETRIES of LIFE.
CEREMONY OF
SOIL, SOMA and SOUL.
BODY and EARTH as the COMPASSIONATE WITNESS – our MARKINGS of MATTER that BLEED the POETRIES of LIFE.
COSMIC POETRY of WOMAN
I turn toward beauty. The tender and the thunder. I sing and the earth sings back. I want to go where time slows, where love gets very, very loud.
HONORING the HEROINE
PHOTOGRAPHY as WITNESS
BODY as ORACLE
PLANTS as TEACHERS
COSMIC level COMPASSION
CONDUITS for the SHAPESHIFTERS
Through every rebirth and underworld, photography has been a conduit for how I understand myself through every phase of my own heroines journey.
My work now is a blend of all the things that shake my soul, dance with the mystery and remind me “I’M ALIVE.”
TAPPING into the TENDER
LIBERATING the SOUL
TRUSTING the BODY
I believe that as women we contain multitudes, that we are the bridges between matter & magic.
So my work & art is a blend of devotional containers for women revel in their own totality. By igniting the spirit, returning to the body’s poetry, channelling cosmic compassion, and celebrating being a CREATURA of GOD.
An online garden in the digital matrix for women of matter and spirit.
Come hang in the garden, we’re sowing seeds and digging up rubies from the mud.
Gathering the shapeshifters, the beauty seekers, & lovers of mystery.
a FEMALE-FOCUSED LANDING SPACE within THE DIGITAL MATRIX for WOMEN to EXPLORE, CONVERSATE, EMBODY and EXPAND
When a human dies, the soul moves
When a human dies, the soul moves
through the universe trying to describe how a body trembles
when it’s lost, softens when it’s safe, how a wound would heal
given nothing but time. Do you understand? Nothing in space can
imagine it. No comet, no nebula, no ray of light
can fathom the landscape of awe, the heat of shame.
The fingertips pulling the first gray hair
and throwing it away.
I can’t imagine it,
the stars say. Tell us again about goosebumps.
Tell us again about pain.
– Andrea Gibson
POETRY of woman & earth
the heroine’s journey
bending LIGHT & TIME
quantum witnessing
returning to the WILD feminine
COSMIC compassion
intelligence of SOMA & soil
elemental expression
