peek-a-boo
Grace is always right there peering out from behind the furniture ready to say “peek-a-boo”!
I really appreciate that about life.
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choosing to feel good
My daughter, Gigi, beholding the altar at her new school I have always been a highly sensitive person. I have often sensed things–the things you feel with your sixth sense–and often haven’t known what to do with those feelings. As I child, my perceptions were often “hushed up” by my parents or others (common when…
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yes, more please.
Presto! The Magus created a life of beauty and grace by pulling it out of her hat! Life is so dellaluscious right now. It almost seems like it should be illegal but I’ll just keep letting more of these good things flow: Smart, fabulous kids. Spaciousness for love and creativity. More sexy, talented man who…
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abundance | audio love notes | faith | grace | mystery | photography | the delicious now | truthembracing mystery and getting paid
In this week’s unscripted audio love note, I discuss embracing mystery and getting paid, being and feeling supported by my Patreon folx and creating a container for my work
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divine am i
divine me when i was little Whenever I have moments of self-doubt or unworthiness, I take a moment to remember that I am truly a Divine creation, that every cell of my body is part of the body of Spirit. Even my fears and illusions of separation are part of my Divinity. They are the…
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- mystery | photography | pleasure | poetry | sexuality | the delicious now
(and some flirting)
reading her my poetry about a man with a swagger ‘neath red flame chandeliers (and comparing notes) circular narratives about life and gypsies and making sense of men (and ourselves) a text to her lover in a moment of mischief fueled with red wine (and some flirting) “I think she’s trying to get me drunk,”…
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- healing | love | photography | poetry | self-excavation | truth
purity of intention
There are the ones who yammer on endlessly about themselves– their work their art their hobbies their past. yammer yammer yammer I call these the wounded children, the narcissists the boring. There are the ones who peek into every crevice– of my life ask too many questions and swim too deep into my being. swim…
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