Art Journal Lab: Gratitude Practice

In Art Journal Lab last week, the theme was gratitude practice.

I know, I know. Everyone's talking about gratitude these days, and we all know how important it is to feel grateful. But it never can hurt to have a reminder or a structure in how to connect to our gratitude. As much as I know how helpful gratitude is for wellness and happiness--I had never brought this topic to my class. It felt like it was time.

As I was flying back from NYC to Baja, I was aware of feeling a new emotional low--what might be called a period of the dark night of the soul. A time when I have lost connection with my vitality & inner purpose. A time when I feel a lot of self-doubt and anxiety. During these times I am usually not creating as much, and the lack of my music and writing practice has a negative effect on my emotions. My higher self put these practices in place for me because she knew that I am emotionally sensitive and high-energy, and that I need multiple and regular channels in which to express all that is erupting out of me. But sometimes I go through brief periods where I avoid my practices because my inner critic is lurking in those shadows, and I don't want to confront her (or them, as I have a trio of inner critics.)

When all else fails, or is too scary or complex, gratitude practice is an easy and quick way to raise your vibrational frequency, or in other words, for those of you who don't relate to that view of the universe, to feel better.

Here are five types of gratitude that I shared in class:

1) Go To Gratitude - What is easy for you to feel grateful for. This will be different for each of us, but my go to gratitude is my beautiful son Emilio.

2) Bottom Line Gratitude - What may or not be easy for you to feel grateful for, but what is always there, what is essential and what you can connect to in the present moment. EG: Being alive, Health, Spirit or God, Nature, Having a body, or feelings.

3) Self Gratitude - Feeling grateful for your unique gifts. This is helpful when we are feeling low in confidence and are only identifying with our insecurities. We all have unique gifts.

4) Future Gratitude - Connecting with what you are creating in your life, or trying to attract (if you are working on the law of attraction method of magnetizing what you most desire in your life). Imagining that you already have the thing, situation, experience, quality that you are cultivating and then feeling grateful for it. Filling ourselves up with gratitude is the best way for us to attract what we want to bring into our life.

5) Past Gratitude - This perhaps is the hardest one of all, but possibly the most beneficial in terms of being able to transform suffering into meaning. This is one of the exercises we worked on in class. First, through meditation, pick a few moments of your day yesterday that you feel grateful for right now. Really focus on the feeling of gratitude. Where does it live in your body? Imagine it. Breathe into it. Allow it to grow. Then go through your yesterday again, and pick one thing that was a struggle for you. Now see if you can find some gratitude about some aspect of the difficult experience. Did you learn something important about yourself or another? Was there something present that you felt grateful for even though what you were mostly noticing the struggle?

Try these practices yourself. Pick 10-15 minutes where you won't be interrupted. Allow yourself to relax through deep breathing and asking your muscles to relax. Then pick a day or time period that you want to focus your gratitude on and pick one of the above practices. Feel free to share here how it went for you.

Latest Family Drawing

Emilio and I haven't been drawing much this year. He's been busier with school--now that he's in first grade. And I've been busy with work. But I so miss drawing with him. When we collaborate, he adds a certain quality I could never have--a boldness of shape, which is somehow simultaneously careful and carefree. My marks are usually repetitive and obsessive--which makes a nice contrast with Emilio's style. Usually Emilio makes the first quick marks--setting up the overall composition and then I will spend hours, sometimes spread over a few days, filling in all the spaces. This is the process in which we made last weekend's drawing.

Here it is:

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Quotes as Prompts into Personal Truths: Anaïs Nin

A good quote is an invitation, an invitation into oneself. We resonate with certain sayings or phrases because they awaken a truth in us. They offer something we would have liked to say, but couldn’t quite get there. Certain words create an allowing, a sense that it’s okay to be who you are, or a push, to let yourself be more than you thought you could be.

Over the next few days, I will be sharing some of my favorite quotes, and why they speak to me on a personal level.

““The lasting revolution comes from deep changes within ourselves that influence the collective life.” - Anaïs Nin”

This is the quote that I chose to have on the front page of my blog because it, more than any other quote, speaks to the inner mission of the work I do. It speaks both to the smaller and larger purpose—the individual soul and the soul of the world. As I mature, and enter middle age, I see how important it is to me that the work I do has an impact on society, on the collective life. In fact, if I look closely at my history, I would say that that goal has always been there, even if it has sometimes been hidden from my view.

As a teenager, after watching the movie Pump Up the Volume with Christian Slater, about a teenage boy who was a secret rebel—through his radio show—he stirred up a conservative small town into acknowledging and rebelling against its own rigidity. Watching that film awakened me to my soul’s mission: to be a voice of impact and awakening for humanity. There have been times that I have gotten caught up in the ego’s desires to have fame or recognition, to be popular. It is clear to me now, after much inner work, that these desires link to a very old need for be respected and acknowledged. But when I look more closely, and open up to my heart’s mission, I see that my goal is to have an impact on how people live. I want people to experience life more fully and deeply. I want them to open up to who they really are. To experience both their unique soul’s manifestation as well as opening up to the universal Self.

In yoga yesterday, Marimar, the teacher, invited us to ask ourselves: “what is my life’s purpose?” Immediately, the answer came: “to be myself & to help others be themselves.” It was a feeling of happy recognition. After all, the title of the workshop I have led for the last five saturdays is Be All Your Selves, and this becoming my catch phrase, as well as the lyrics to one of my songs.

I have discovered that in order to be yourself, you must first allow yourself to explore and integrate all the smaller selves, or subpersonalities, or archetypes. This is my updated version of Jung’s discoveries about human as well as spiritual development. Personally, I have struggled deeply with being myself.  It can be so hard to simply just be yourself, when we often don’t know what that is, or what that would look like. But in any given moment we can contact an aspect of Self through a role we play, or an emotion we feel, we can explore that part, accept it, love it, the slow process of integrating it into the whole.

Its this process of integration that is the core of the work that I do: both for myself and for others, by focusing on the individual experience of self-actualization, we change the restrictive nature of our culture, one awakening at a time.

Do you have a favorite quote that reminds you of your life's purpose?

Art Journal Lab: Soul Searching

For the past several weeks, we have been exploring the acorn theory of soul, as proposed by the late psychologist James Hillman, in his book, The Soul's Code: In Search of Character and Calling. As I often do with books that are poetically written, deep and radical, I am taking a long time to read this book. It was lent to me by a friend, and so I can't write ecstatic notes or underline my favorite paragraphs as I often do. Instead, I do what I did as a teenager. I copy long sections of the beloved book into my journal. There is something about rewriting the book into my journal that gives me the feeling that I am digesting the material more deeply.

The basic idea of the book, which has radically altered how I see my life and my relationship to its events, is: each person has a unique soul, which is invisible to us for most of our life, but as we pay more attention to our life and its history, we start to see signs, symbols, memories that point the way to our soul's code which expresses who we were meant to be. The soul is an acorn--containing all of our unique potentialities from before the beginning of life. The soul even chooses which parents it wants to born to. This calls for a radical re-invisioning of psychology's notion that the way the parents raise their child is what form's the child's personality and pathologies.

Soul is so elusive and perplexing, it feels like a scary theme to bring to my art journal class. And yet, I feel deeply energized and inspired by this kind of work. It feels exactly like the kind of thing I need to be doing. Both for myself, and others. In class, we have been trying different ways of imagining into each of our soul's to find understanding and meaning and to help us make choices that are in alignment with the soul's purpose.

These are the words that Hillman uses interchangeably for the word soul:

 ACORN    DAIMON    CALLING    CHARACTER    IMAGE    GENIUS    FATE   IMAGE    DESTINY

“These many words and names do not tell us what it is, but they do confirm that it is. They also point to its mysteriousness. We cannot know what exactly we are referring to because its nature remains shadowy, revealing itself mainly in hints, in intuitions, whispers, and the sudden urges and oddities that disturb your life and that we continue to call symptoms.”

Here is a poem I wrote to my art journal lab students, as an invitation to try on this theory for a few weeks, and see what they might discover about their soul's.

Imagine

even with your terror

and exquisite heartache

that everything that is

is exactly how it should be.

Your story of suffering

that you sometimes cling to,

your most secret unfulfilled longing,

your rage that you can barely touch,

your most outrageous largeness

that calls to you

(in the dark)

What if all of that were

exactly what your soul ordered

to live itself out,

to engage its depth and mystery

to grow it into the world

to become what it already is?

I have decided recently that I will be developing the art journal lab course material into an online course or an ebook. So I will be blogging more here on what we are working on in art journal lab as a way to continue to develop the material that I have been working on for the past five years.

In one of our recent art journal lab classes, I led the students into a guided visualization where they contacted their earliest memory, and then drew a picture of that memory. They then wrote in their journals--describing more deeply what the experience was like. Some of them dialogued with the child from the memory, to go even deeper. The process allowed each person to discover a seed of her soul.

My theory is: memories from childhood are moments of awakening to the soul. I believe we remember moments of childhood because there was something elemental there, some awareness of self or soul that was not there previously. What we remember is significant and says something to us about our unique destiny.

What is your earliest childhood memory and what about this memory resonates with your soul's callings or yearnings?

when i grow up

This is what I had want to express tonight when I perform, but if I don’t, then at least it is here:

After I play When I grow Up.

When I grow up, I wanna be a song singer.

When I grow up, I'll be myself. I'll break the spell. I'll be myself.

When I grow up, I wanna be a truth-slinger.

When I grow up, I'll be myself. I'll break the spell. I'll be myself.

When I grow up, I wanna be a humdinger.

When I grow up, I'll be myself. I'll break the spell. I'll be myself.

This is the song I would have written as a kid, if I had known what I know now. I wasn’t ready to know it then. Now, at 42, I am ready.

When my parents got me my first electric guitar and guitar lessons, at 15 years old, back in Brooklyn, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I could write songs, let alone sing them. I deeply wanted to sing, but I did not know I had a voice. I felt cut off from that ability. There weren’t a lot of rock-n-roll female role models or encouragement for that kind of expression, the few that were, I clung to: Joan Jett, The GoGo’s. But they seemed miles away from what I could possibly do. Within less than a year, I stopped playing guitar, and just continued to be a rock-n-roll fan. Over the years, I increased and expanded my fandom to include more expressive and alternative examples of what you could do with rock-n-roll. At 15, never would I have imagined that fourteen years later, at age 29, I would return to the same music conservatory I had studied piano at as a little girl, and sign up for voice, guitar and music theory lessons. That I would buy myself a $75 guitar at a stoop sale, and instead of whiling away the evening watching syndicated sitcoms, I would start to write songs, that I could play and sing. After a few months, I magically ran into an old college friend who happened to work in the same building as me, who also happened to be learning drums. A month later, I met a bassist at a party, and suddenly we had formed an all woman rock band. We called ourselves Social Service. We were all working in the social services at the time. We all still are. We had only one gig—at Meow Mix, a Lesbian bar in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. That was 12 years ago.

This show tonight is a sampling of songs that I wrote about the process of discovering one’s soul. Some songs are about the struggles of feeling disempowered, and lost, and some songs are about the joy and love and power of self-discovery. Most are about both. I have found that rock-n-roll is an expression that suits me, as it is about rebellion and carving out one's place in the world that didn’t exist before. True rockers are pioneers—wrestling with opposites: masculine and feminine, love and power, despair and celebration, creating space in the world with force, with a sound that is at once familiar and brand new. Rock-n-roll may not be for everyone, but it’s most definitely for me. Art, in all its forms, has always been about creating a context for myself so I can let myself be free. So I can let all my selves be free: man, woman and child. Everyone of us has many selves within. This is what I teach in my classes. This is what I express in my songs.

I have learned that there is no short cut, or easy path to self-actualization. It requires honoring both darkness and light, blood, sweet and tears, thousands of hours of dedicated work and play, facing and accepting and even loving our fear and pettiness. It is not an easy path, but it is most definitely a path filled with meaning, joy and connection. Once you start on this path, there is no turning back. There are times I have wanted to give up, I have turned away from myself, hidden, felt deeply ashamed or afraid.  But there has always something that has kept me going, kept me in the game: it was the quiet but consistent voice of my soul looking out for me, reminding me over and over to return to music, despite my fears, knowing more than I know about the soul’s destiny. And so I have shown up here with you tonight, with all my selves, playing my songs that reflect the truths I have collected up until now. Some truths are deeply personal, some are universal. If you get half as much enjoyment out of listening as I have out of creating and playing these songs, then I think we will have a really great evening!

I also want to say that I am very honored that there are young people here tonight. It is deeply meaningful for me to nurture the creativity of their unique souls. As a young person myself, I felt very powerless in the world, and I retreated into my own inner world of creative expression. In this way, I kept my voice true, even if it was a secret. I longed to have another person see my yearning to perform, to encourage me, to guide me deeper into myself.  This year I have had so many incredible opportunities to do this for others, which brings me to our next song. It is with great pleasure to introduce the amazing, Maria Jose Favela, who played La Flor in El Principito en Baja—the play that opened the film festival last month. Working with Maria José has been greatly nurturing to my own soul.

My hope tonight is that I may inspire you and spark your unique inner fire, that secret thing that you need to be, but can’t fully allow, or to have the courage to look honestly within, making space for and having compassion for your shadow selves, your struggles and fears as well as your love and power.

Remember: you are never too young, or too old, to be who you are already are.

Better on the outside than on the inside

When we first arrived in Baja, and I was pregnant and we were camping on our land in Elias Calles, I wasn’t legal to work yet, but I needed to do something to occupy my time, to meet people, be of service, and to have a creative outlet. I decided to volunteer for the women’s organization, Manos Magicas. It’s a small group of women (Mexican, American & French) who met (and still meet) weekly in Todos Santos dedicated to helping women learn skills using their hands: sewing, knitting, making for the purpose of learning, community building and financial independence. The same day I showed up to volunteer, Marcela, and her boyfriend Sigfrido, showed up for the first time too. They were young, younger than me, and scrappy, scrappier than me. They were also from the big city, living on their raw piece of land, camping or more like squatting in their quarter-built house. It was a relief to make some young friends, who were Mexican, who spoke perfect English. We spent all our time together our first summer in Baja, and Marcela taught me many things in Spanish. One of my favorites was an expression in Spanish, that I immediately forgot, but adopted into my own vernacular in English, which translated to: better on the outside than the outside. She said this to me every time I burped, which was often, as I had an addiction to bubbly water and coke. Coca Cola that is. Mexican Coca Cola, which is holier than American coke because it has real sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup. A friend told me that Mexican coke is a high value item in the US now for $3 a bottle. But I digress.

The point is that Marcela introduced me to this expression as a way to make me feel better about my burping. And you know what? It worked. Because of her phrase, burping, or even farting, felt more like a celebration than something I should cover up or apologize for. After all, it’s better on the outside than on the inside. It also became a joke between us—the more pregnant I got, the more I felt that this phrase applied to me, not just about gas, but about the baby. I really wanted him out.

At first, I had wanted the birth to be 100% natural,  hippie style. I interviewed a midwife. I read books about how empowering an all natural pregnancy was. I drew drawings of my unborn baby. (There's another wonderful story here about the drawing I drew, but I'll save it for another time.) When I found out that the baby (now the force known as Emilio) had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and that I would have to deliver him in a hospital, and that Lucas would not be allowed to accompany me in the delivery room, I opted for the cesarean section, which was what Doctor Ariola recommended. (Yes my OBGYN was named Ariola). I was devastated at first, I hadn’t imagined myself to be the kind of person that had a c-section, it just didn’t seem part of the narrative. But then again, no mother has the birth she imagines. It’s the first lesson of motherhood. Things not going according to plan. Eventually, I had come to accept the cesarean, as scared as I was. After all, no matter how it happens, better on the outside than the inside. That was what was most important.

The day Emilio arrived on this side of life, outside the womb that is, was not the happiest day of my life, as so many parents claim. The day after his birth was possibly the worst day of my life. (Also another story.) That doesn’t mean I didn’t love the little thing as he first nursed me, both of us having no idea of how it’s supposed to happen, just knowing that it is. The first time I heard his voice, as I lay drugged out on the operation table, I burst into tears. It was a loud sharp cry announcing his lungs to the world, to us, his parents. The sound of his voice was a great relief, and proof, undeniable proof, even more so than seeing him, or holding him, that he was alive, and here. That he is a whole person, separate and individual and able to make sound. Then Lucas showed him to me and I was surprised by the darkness of his hair, and the amount of it. He seemed small, but somehow powerful already. A force of nature. He was so so much better on the outside than on the inside.

It’s not that it was a difficult or painful pregnancy. Things went smoothly mostly—at least his part did. He grew, and grew. And I grew and grew along with him. There was not a lot of pain and only a small amount of discomfort, which mostly resulted in the fact that we were living outside, in the desert sun, and I was hotter than normal, and could never seem to find enough shade or coolness to feel comfortable, until night time, which was when I retired, at 9 PM, to the tent, ready for profound rest. Mostly, I took long walks on the beach, alone, or with Lucas, looking for shells and rocks to add to our collection. I was somehow able to stay very present, not thinking too far in the future—how are we going to raise this child? What kind of education is he going to have? Those thoughts, the thoughts that most of my friends and family asked, did not even occur to me at all. I knew instinctively that all my energy needed to go into growing this being and putting all my creativity into that, not through drawing or writing or singing, the way I was used to doing, but just through being. Through soaking in the fresh ions from the ocean waves and the moments of pleasure when I could enjoy food. My pregnancy experience was unconventional, to say the least, and not even in line with the kind of person I had been before. I wasn’t much of a camper, or a nature girl. I had always loved nature, and had enjoyed camping the few times I had done it. But, camping was more like a background to some other kind of art project or experience. I didn’t have a very direct relationship to nature. Every plant I had ever owned had died. The first time I went camping with Lucas, I referred to the forest as “in here” as in “hey it’s getting dark in here as the day faded into night.” I admit I said it partly in jest, to play up the Brooklyn part of me, the part of me that is, as Woody Allen used to say, at two with nature. But the larger and deeper truth is that I am a hippie deep inside. I have never worn patchouli oil, and I do not have long stringy hair. I never really dug the grateful dead (though some of their songs are pretty catchy, I admit), and I never call people “man” or use the word “groovy.” But inside, I am about as hippie as you get. I believe in peace and love truly and madly. I believe almost everyone is too uptight, or at least spend some more time in nature contemplating the sky. I often feel I wasn’t really made for the world that I became myself in—I feel far too large, and strange and messy and indefinable.

Now, six years later, the term better on the outside than on the inside can refer to just about everything that’s important to me. It has become a central theme of my work. What is inside? Or rather, what do we keep inside? What do we not show? This is what I am most interested in. Sometimes it’s just trapped gas, or a baby that isn’t ready to be be born, but other times its the fear that is just beyond the reach of our awareness, or the really rough novel we’re writing in secret, or the dream we dare not share in case someone else laughs or judges us, or the tear just under the surface of the duct, that would prove our fallibility if were to appear in the corner of our eye.

Yes. I say, better on the outside than on the inside lest that feeling, or thought, or work of art stays stagnant and unfelt, unimagined, unlived. We are lucky to be born into this world, and if we are alive, then we are meant to live. We can barely live if we cannot let what is inside, out. I know this from experience. I have had times in my life where I did not want to live because I could not transmit my inner world. The loneliness of being shut out from our very own liveliness is heartbreaking and often, dangerous. I believe our humanity is at stake when it comes to whether or not we can forge through our fear and risk emotional, mental and artistic expression.

I say, yes, always yes, it is better on the outside than on the inside.

Marcela, if you are reading this, please do send me the Spanish version of that saying.

Our land when we first arrived on it. Our French friends helped us clear the land to make space for our camp.

Marcela & Sigfrido at their home. We called them Sigcela.

7.5 months pregnant at Cerritos Beach.

Showing off our solar panel at our camp.

Learning how to make rugs from fabric scraps at Manos Magicas.

Two months after Emilio was born.

El Principito En Baja: Behind The Scenes and on The Stage

On Wednesday, March 16th,  the premier of El Principito en Baja was performed at the historic Teatro de Márquez de León Theater in Todos Santos. The play was an adaptation of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic book, The Little Prince, re-written for the stage by David Liles and Sylvia Perel, Founder and Director of the Festival de Cine Todos Santos, with some additions and re-imaginings to include the local context of Todos Santos, Baja California Sur, which is under environmental threat by goldmining industry. There were two performances--the morning matinee which was viewed by over 200 schoolchildren, (including the Elias Calles school where my son attends) and the evening, which kicked off the 13th annual Festival de Cine Todos Santos - La Paz, raised money for the Jóvenes en Video program, a program of the ten year running Leonardo Perel Film School, (founded by Sylvia Perel's late husband) and the only film school in Baja California Sur. The second performance was attended by a highly enthusiastic audience, which included Mexican actor, director and producer, Diego Luna.

Work on the play started in the summer of 2015, as part of a series of free summer workshops that involved more than 60 local kids learning film-making, animation and acting. 5 of those kids Esli, 18, (EL PILOTO), Lucas, 8 (EL PRINCIPITO) , Emilia, 10 (EL MANANTIAL y LA CASCABEL), Maria José, 13 (LA FLOR y EL DRAGON) and Hannah, 12 (EL EMPRESARIO y EL COYOTE) were cast for the main characters and rehearsed for eight months. The cast was later joined by three wonderful girls: Lía, (FLOR) Fernanda, (FLOR) y Susje (FLOR). Starting with the YOUTH EN VIDEO workshops, the kids created masks, characters, memorized lines, stage directions, learned songs and even some dancing. The youth from JOVENES EN VIDEO (Dora, Frida, Juan, Raquel taught by Prof. Mike Henaine) captured this creative process in their documentary, Detrás de las Escenas del Principito en Baja (Behind The Scenes of the Little Prince en Baja), which will be screened at 3 PM on Monday, March 21st at Teatro Manuel Márquez de León. Admission is Free. The JÓVENES EN VIDEO also created the charming animated videos and stunning footage capturing the natural beauty of Baja that were projected on the LED screen behind the actors to add scenery and meaning to this beautiful multimedia theatrical production, whose theme was protecting the natural beauty of Baja.

Last July, Sylvia Perel asked me to help her with the production, which was originally supposed to be performed in October. At that time, I was helping as creative consultant, and attending some of the rehearsals, not really sure the best way to help. I tried to pull in more actors, and brough in some visual ideas, but my real role did not start until November, when Sylvia told me that La Flor was supposed to sing a song. I told her I was a songwriter, and that I would write one. That night I poured over the script in Spanish, and the original book and wrote my first song en Español. I had some help with the Spanish from Sylvia Perel and Silvia Padilla, (my Spanish teacher and English student, and my neighbor and friend.) And Por Ti (La Canción de la Flor) was born! There was this extra part at the end, that I couldn't figure out how to connect to the rest of the song. It just didn't fit.  After a few weeks of trying to make it work, I suddenly realized the ending to that song was really its own song, and that it could be the finale of the play!  A few weeks later, Sylvia told me they needed additional music and sound to enhance and tie in the performances. I immediately agreed, and that was how I became the Musical Director of the play. I am immensely proud and happy to have had the opportunity to collaborate with and meet so many creative local talents and to have been involved in such a heartfelt, and beautiful production with such an important message. Wednesday's performance, and all the hours of work that led up to it, was truly a creative highlight of my life. I hope that I will collaborate with the JÓVENES EN VIDEO in the future--I already have several ideas for projects in mind. This production was a great opportunity for me to practice teaching in Spanish, and my goal is to collaborate more with children in BCS gives me more motivation to improve my Spanish.

Here is the recording of Por Ti that I made, which was featured in the play. I hope Maria José, the girl who played the flower and who sang the song, will join me on April 14th to sing it with me at my next gig in at La Esquina. I plan to do another recording of the song, with all the verses and both of our voices.

Here is the complete list of cast and crew:

Dirección/Producción Sylvia Perel

Guión /Script Sylvia Perel & David Liles

Producción Ejecutiva. Patricia Fernández Millán

Dirección de Actores/ Acting Teacher Prof. Guillermina Sainz

Producción Técnica/ Tech Production Rogelio Muñoz Camacho

Escenografía/Set Designing Wesley Horn

Vestuario/Costumes Clara Gaucín

Música/Music Zoë Dearborn

Iluminación/Lighting design Franciso Zuñiga

Objetos /Props Salvador Cadena (Chava)

Actores/Actors Esli Mejía, Lucas Cano Sanchez , Emilia Cano Sanchez, Maria José Favela, Rosita Orozco, Lía Romero, Fernanda Murillo. Susje Torres.

Producción Visual : Jóvenes en Video, Prof. Mike Henaine, Dora Juliana Martinez, Frida Cota, Juan Manuel Agúndez, Raquel León Gonzalez

Logística/Logistic Angie Ontiveros

Efectos digitales, mapping e instalación: MUV Marco Gaviño, Rolando González e Iván Rodríguez.

For more information, check the Festival de Cine Website.

Here is the recording of Por Ti that I made, which was featured in the play. I hope Maria José, the girl who played the flower and who sang the song, will join me on April 14th to sing it with me at my next gig in at La Esquina. I plan to do another recording of the song, with all the verses and both of our voices.

Last night was like coming out.

Photo credit: Barney Edmonds, (my dad)

Last night, at La Esquina, I sang & played 19 of my original songs and 2 Bob Dylan covers, in two sets. The first set with an acoustic guitar (plugged in) and the second with an electric guitar (really plugged in.) With his hands, Lucas played the bass, and with his foot, played the bass drum. Or in the second set, he played the drums with his right hand, and bass lines on the synthesizer with his left hand. 2 for 4. Dos por Cuatro. Four instruments for two people.  If you count voice as an instrument.

I invited everyone I could think of that might be interested, and I performed with everything I had. I felt excited, shiny, vulnerable, raw, nervous & ready all at once. I still haven't fully processed all of what happened last night. But for now, I want to share with you my first feelings and thoughts.

Most of all, from the bottom of my heart, I really want to thank all of you who were there to witness and to be entertained. It truly means everything to me that you were there. After all, what's the point of being a performer if you don't have an audience? What's the point of being a songwriter if no one hears your songs?  Those of you who read my blog or know me personally know how much I believe in the encouragement of creativity & truthful expression, in fact, it's what I pretty much live for. I do what I can to encourage people to live out their dreams, to keep making their art, no matter what kind of self doubt they have. I do this for you, and I also do this for me. I need to dare myself to live out loud, risking ego, in order to fulfill my soul’s code. It is never easy to come out of hiding and share yourself. I do it, not because it always feels good, or because I am confident, I do it because there is something in me that tells me that this is my destiny. It doesn't always make sense. But the songs keep coming and the need to sing never goes away.

It's hard especially, for a girl, or woman, to hold your own value enough to say, "Hey, I have something to say, and I would like to be heard." This is something I have struggled with my whole life, as so many of us have. It takes tremendous courage to show up for yourself, and then ask people to witness you. I hope that this act of being and living out my rock-n-roll self, will inspire others to to take similar kinds of risks. After all, hiding, while sometimes necessary, can become a destructive habit for oneself and the world. The world needs to hear all the true voices.

I am often inspired by this line in the introduction of Lena Dunham's book of personal essays, Not That Kind of Girl: "There is nothing gutsier to me than a person announcing that their story is one that deserves to be told, especially if that person happens to be a woman.”

Here is an excerpt from a response I wrote to an email I received from a friend/singer who came to the show:

"Last night was the culmination of MANY years of work. 2 years (since I started my daily practice of singing & playing.) 12 years (since I first started writing songs). 27 years since I first picked up an electric guitar. 42 years (since I dreamed of singing and performing). It feels good (and vulnerable) to finally unleash all this musical stuff that I have been dreaming of, working on, and creating.

I eventually want to integrate these songs into a live act of storytelling that also explains my journey of empowerment, from being a shy & quiet "good girl" to living my dreams out loud as a woman.

Thank you for witnessing. I am honored."

I will end with some excerpt of lyrics that were sung in the two sets. Each of the 21 songs represented.

Wolf Spider
you’re draggin' the dragonfly down.

Don’t let the bastards get you down,
you are a verb, and not a noun.

the vagabond that’s wrapping at your door
is standing in the clothes that you once wore.

i know now there’s only one sin
don’t you know honey, it’s the split within?

When I grow up
I wanna be a song-singer.

i’m yours for the taking
for mending, stealing, baking.

I know I’m no longer a kid
and I can’t pretend
to be immortal.
I can’t pretend
not to care.
I can’t pretend to be free
anymore.

There ‘aint no hiding in the moonlight
there’s no fooling the stars.

when you see this from above
the parts are fingers of one glove

The city lights go down
I can see you all around

no sabía quien era
quien era hasta que te vi,

no sabía queera
una flor hasta que florecí     

electric set

How does it feel? To be on your own?
With no direction home?
Like a complete unknown?
Like a rolling stone.

you’re a lucky guy
cuz you get to hang with me
all the time!

I’m so dutiful
it makes me want to fall.
restless big & small.

i can’t feel me in you
i need a point of view

electric morning
no acoustic
no separate fingers!

oh, i got caught up in sunshine today!

I took photographs today
in my close up way
to make the pain okay

the state i’m in
I feel nervous and brave and exposed

She’s a rock-n-roll thing.

She knows how to do her thing.

when i’m thinking of you
will we be two?

Stay tuned for practice recordings and home studio recordings—I am going to be continuing to share the process & products of recording my songs.

Photo credit: Julie Edmonds (my mom)

Photo by Barney Edmonds

Photo by Julie Edmonds

Photo by Barney Edmonds

Photo by Julie Edmonds

We will be doing the show all over again on April 14th--hopefully with some new songs!

State I'm In

“There’s enough songs for people to listen to, if they want to listen to songs. For every man, woman and child on earth, they could be sent, probably, each of them, a hundred songs, and never be repeated. There’s enough songs.... Unless someone’s gonna come along with a pure heart and has something to say. That’s a different story. - Bob Dylan”

Recently I decided that it was time for me to transition from being a closet (or living room) musician to one that shared my music with others. In other words, I am ready to let myself be heard.

I know that this process will be difficult--and it will naturally bring up shame and fear. I will expose myself to more criticism, more opportunities that will make me want to talk myself out of being a musician in the first place. I know I will feel vulnerable, raw, uncertain. I know there will be a lot of people out there who do not necessarily "get" or like my songs, our sound, or my voice. I know also, that people mostly will not care or pay attention anyway. Who cares if yet another person out there puts their music out there? This idea is both comforting and disheartening. After all, as Bob Dylan said, "The world don’t need any more songs… As a matter of fact, if nobody wrote any songs from this day on, the world ain’t gonna suffer for it. Nobody cares. There’s enough songs for people to listen to, if they want to listen to songs. For every man, woman and child on earth, they could be sent, probably, each of them, a hundred songs, and never be repeated. There’s enough songs." And maybe he's right, maybe the world doesn't need any more songs. Maybe. But I do. I need more songs. Not only do I need to write them, but I need to hear them. Songs for me are like moments of emotional contact with the universal human experience. We have infinite experiences in a lifetime, and we need an infinite amount of songs to capture the ineffable. Even though Bob Dylan is one of my heroes, I have to disagree with him here. The world does need songs because I need them, and I am of this world. But then Bob Dylan goes on to say (this quote is taken from the book of interviews called Songwriters on Songwriting) "...Unless someone’s gonna come along with a pure heart and has something to say. That’s a different story".

I am now going to share with you some of the best advice I have received about the process of making music.  These words return to me over and over and use them to get me through the inevitable vulnerability that comes from being an artist of any kind, but a performer in particular.

1) Always sing from your heart, if you sing from your heart, you will always sound good. - Lynn Wedekind, composer, singer, sound healer

2) The process of creating music is channeling. It's not up to you to choose your songs, it comes through you. It's not up to you to judge whether or not it is good. It is up to you to just get it down and then out. - I am not sure where this advice came from. Perhaps from my higher self, or perhaps out of conversations I have had with my friend, collaborator & colleague Holly Mae Haddock.

3) Don't focus on the material, or the audience, just focus on the music and the performance of the music. -- Lucas, my husband.

That being said, I thought I'd share a practice recording that Lucas and I made a few months ago. It's a song that has remained unfinished, for a reason. It's raw, and a lot of is improvised, but I think it captures something about our sound and my mission with music, which is to share an honest expression of the complexity of who I am, and to have a fucking good time while I do it. In a lot of my songs, and other artwork, I try to capture opposites--holding a space in the middle of both negative and positive emotions. There's something about rock-n-roll, especially because I'm a woman and didn't have a lot of female mentors in this arena, that helps me connect with androgyny. The overlapping of the feminine and masculine. I believe this is the secret to all the best rock-n-roll.

Time to Rock!

These photos were taken when I was pregnant with Mio, seven years ago, six months after we moved to Baja. We were camping out in Elias Calles, and one day we got a little dolled up and drove into Todos Santos to watch the Oscars at Buena Vida (my favorite pizza place that is now closed.) I put my camera on the dashboard for this series. We will be making this same drive in a few weeks to perform our first gig at La Esquina, my favorite venue! This is a moment I have been dreaming about for a long time.

Lucas will be playing drums and keyboard and bass. Yes--he will be playing more than one instrument at a time. And I will be singing and playing guitar. Maybe a little dancing.

Inspired by Bob Dylan at the Newport Folk Festival, we will be playing two sets--a folk set and then a rock-n-roll set. Each set contains my original songs written over the last ten years and one Bob Dylan cover. When Dylan went electric and got booed by his folk fans--he kept playing because he did what he had to do. He wanted to plug in. That moment continues to be so inspiring to me. Plugging in my guitar is so empowering. I even wrote a song about it. It's called Dangerous Instrument and I will playing it on Thursday, February 25th at La Esquina, in the second set, of course.

Long live Rock-n-roll!

Five Weeks of Group Drawing at Baja Beans Market

For the past five weeks, I have been selling art supplies, promoting my creativity classes and events, and inviting people to draw with me at the Baja Beans Farmer's Market in Pescadero. My booth is a magnet for children and artists of all kinds. There are some people in the world who just can't resist color. I know, because I am one of them. Art supplies are more seductive than candy, and much better for you too!

In each 5 hour session, we create one 16 x 20 inch drawing on Bristol smooth paper. The only rule is that you cannot draw over someone else's drawing, but you are welcome to add and connect the various drawings. The goal is to fill up as much space as possible. As you can see, some are more finished than others. Usually the people who come to draw with me are children. But if an adult stops to buy art supplies or to learn about my offerings, I invite (or cajole) them to make their marks. This is the first lesson I can offer anyone who wants to open up to more of their creativity. Start from where you are. Here is a space for you to draw. Here are some markers, now make your marks!

As for our products, for now we are focusing mostly on drawing and journaling supplies. This is to promote my art journaling class and the idea of drawing in general. My hope is that travelers passing through Baja will feel inspired by the natural beauty, and start sketching in their journal or write about their travel experiences.

For the future, I have plans to create some homemade products, as well as offer a Lucy from Peanuts inspired advice booth.

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The Story of Inside/Outside Ping Continues

Ping used to be a city dog, and so was I. He went on regular walks on hard side walks—sniffing the other dogs’ messages. He was cooped up all day in our apartment, and tried to escape every chance he got, and succeeded several times, creating heart-pounding adventures for us, and for him. Once, he was able to sneak into our upstairs’ neighbor’s apartment and finish their left over chocolate birthday cake, another time he ran across the street, a main highway in Oakland with very fast cars, and ended up trapped in someone’s backyard.

In 2009, Lucas and I packed our 1980’s Toyota Land Cruiser (which waited until we arrived at our destination before it literally collapsed and was never driven again) with a small percentage of our enormous amount of belongings, as well as Ping, and with our unborn son in my belly, we drove down the Baja Peninsula from the Bay Area, to meet our uncertain destiny. We had some savings, a piece of raw land that we didn’t yet own, and some used camping gear, and that was about it.

Ping adjusted to country living quite quickly, and soon found his true calling as at the best watch dog in the world. He has a skittish and serious nature that lends itself well to barking at anything that moves, including pieces of dust and figments of his imagination. We live on a homestead that is one and a half acres in the middle of what is called a Tropical desert. In the summer it’s like living in the tropics, we are prone to hurricanes, loads of bugs, heat, and humidity, but also the desert turns bright green, and wildflowers bloom all over the valley. During the winter it is cool in the evening, and warm and crispy dry, during the day, but the landscape is brown and crusty. Nature makes sure to deliver a gift with every loss, and a devastation with every gain.

Since arriving in Baja, Ping is free to roam the land, smelling and exploring whatever he wants. Barking at whomever he wishes to bark at (real or imaginary). His beast nature is in alignment with… well, nature. This arrangement is blissful for him, as well as for us, but it also has its down sides. Being a country dog means he is covered in dust, fleas & ticks—this made him go from an inside to purely outside dog. He was no longer an inside dog. I really missed that part of my relationship to Ping, as inside tended to be way I had mostly connected with him. He is my first dog, and as a child, I feared dogs, not understanding that barking was a form of communication and not an aggressive act meant to destroy me. When Ping first barked loudly at me, as a puppy, out of frustration, I cried, I was afraid he was going to bite me. My husband laughed at me. But since, I have learned to trust him deeply—and happily stick my hand inside his mouth, whenever necessary.

Two summers ago, there were a lot of lightning & thunderstorms. We live at the foothills of the Sierra de Laguna mountain range—and are prone to all sorts of mountain weather.  The sound of thunder, as is true with most dogs, often triggers a flight response in Ping. Sometimes he cowers in the corner, shaking, but many other times, if he can, he runs with no thought to where he is going. He runs straight for the highway, as fast as his long legs can carry him, which is very, very fast. This happened a few times when we were not at home, and he got hurt—once being hit a little by a car, luckily only a little graze, and another time, he had ripped the pad off of one of his paws. The sight of this was unbearable, as you can imagine, but he recovered.

We realized that if we wanted to keep Ping alive, we would have to turn him back into an inside dog, or rather an inside/outside dog that has to be locked up when we leave the house, just in case thunder comes, and he runs. This shift has meant yet another major quality of life increase for Ping. He now officially has the best of all worlds. The comfort and coziness of the indoor human lifestyle, mixed with the sheer raw freedom of beasting around outside. (This is what we all have, if we take advantage of it. Emilio, now 6 certainly does.) Ping’s updated status has benefited me, as well. We are closer again, and I am more aware of his presence, and our relationship. I admit it is my habitual nature, of being a city girl for 35 years of my life (though I spent most summers in the countryside), to be an inside person. We live in such a gorgeous spot of raw nature, and yet I spend most of my time indoors. I really do forget to go outside, if I don’t have to. We live half a mile from the beach, but I can’t even remember the last time I walked on the sand. Fortunately, we have set up our homestead in such a way that it requires leaving the house. We have two buildings (and a third guesthouse is currently in construction, more on that project in a future post)—a kitchen casita, which is one main room, with a small kitchen, living and dining room. (It also includes a space that has evolved into a music practice space and recording studio. More on that later as well.) And then the other building is our bedroom—2 bedrooms and a bathroom. (Another side note: Emilio just spent his first whole night sleeping alone in his bedroom, with the help of a brand new Star Wars Bad Guy Cozy Blanket).  We have an additional bathroom, just outside the main space—adjoining the front patio. This requires leaving the front door to go to the bathroom. This might sound inconvenient to some people, who are accustomed to a different lifestyle. But it is so great that I must leave the house in order to change clothes, take a shower, or go to the toilet. At night, during my short walk from the living room to the bedroom, I always make sure to pause and look up at the sky, and it always reminds me of why we live here. So that we will never forget the stars. So we will never forget that we are nothing with out nature, and that nature is within us, as well as around us. I forget this every day of my life, but everyday, something always shows up to remind me.

Last week, Ping received his first treatment for Heart Worms, which is a parasite that can affect a dog’s heart—causing to enlarge it and make it work extra hard. His treatment went well, but now he has to be kept from getting excited for 2 weeks. This means no roaming free, no running & barking after dogs or cows or mosquitos. This means being back on a leash for peeing and pooping. So today, I took Ping on his first morning walk. I was impatient—trying to rush his process. Not letting him check every scent he wanted to check, not letting him take the path he wanted to take. It was the busy time of the morning, and I had to get Emilio ready for school. I had to drink my coveted coffee. I had to get back inside. After a short walk where he peed/made his mark a few times, I took him back in the house so I could continue with my indoor morning routine. I took Emilio to school and when I came back Ping was barking politely at the door. Lucas said: “He needs something and I have to go, can you take care of it?” I said” “He doesn’t need something. I already took him out, he just wants something.” I took him out again, grumbling. Once outside, he insisted on walking down the deep slope towards the arroyo (dry river bed) near our house. He stopped several times to sniff, and continue his peeing/mark making. Then after several minutes of walking, he found his spot to poop. Then I started to relax more—realizing that this is his usual outside routine, which happens while I am “busy” with my inside routine: writing emails on my computer, or fretting about some imagined event in the future. I had a moment of deep compassion for him, remembering that he is a beast, and he needs to do his thing, outside. And then I thought this is yet another blessing of something that could easily have been dismissed as “annoying” or “inconvenient,” but really was a wonderful opportunity to get out of my head, and observe the isness of nature. It’s always there, we just usually ignore it. But animals, they can’t ignore it. It’s necessary to them. And I believe it is necessary to us too, after all, are we not animals as well as human beings?

Do you have a story where an animal or other aspect of nature taught you or reminded you of something unexpected, or took you out of your unconscious routine?

p.s. It also must be noted that Mexico is Ping's third country of residence. He was born in Taiwan, and was rescued from being lunch by a woman who flies all over Asia rescuing dog's from being eaten, and then flies them back to the US to be adopted.

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Blogging through a Block

“I made the mistake a few weeks ago of bragging to my husband: “This is the beginning of the second half of my life. I am 42 now, and everything is going to be different from now on.” ”

I was experiencing a flow I have never quite felt before. I felt like I had finally mastered how to manage my anxiety and the voices of my triage of inner critics, who I have affectionately named: "The Self Police" "The Task Master" and "The Judge." I had been feeling myself more and more aligned with the larger, less-ego driven purpose of the higher self. I found myself avoiding the normal pitfalls of getting into fights with my husband. I was reaching out more and more to my friends--practicing new levels of authenticity and vulnerability. I was back to a weekly thing with the blog. I was feeling more confident about my music, and sharing it more. I had made the assumption that it would stay like that. I got attached to the way things were with out acknowledging that all things are impermanent, even moments of spiritual expansion. And then, Bam! That's the moment that ego comes in and says: "Ha!" "I knew you needed me, and here is my moment to prove that to you!"

And then for about a week now, I find myself drawn into overly caring what other people think, or say about me or my work. I find myself assuming that a lack of response to something I put out in the world is a sure indication that I am powerless, ineffectual or unsuccessful. Every response or lack of response triggers shame and self doubt. I wake up too early every morning. My head focusing on what I didn't get done the previous day. The usual tools don't seem to be working:  meditation, free writing, herbal medicine, talking with caring friends, hypnosis recordings. I have moments of relief, but keep returning to a base anxious state. Or I fall into dips of depression--not being able to see where I am going or why I cared in the first place. The result is a block. I avoid my music, my writing, my blogging, my journaling, my art. These are the very things I promote, and I cannot teach them or promote them if I am avoiding them myself.

However, even though I have been in a struggle, I have not completely gotten lost. Just last night, in the midst of anxiety, the voice of my higher self came through and said: "your pain is another opportunity to awaken." 

And then this morning, after crying, I remembered to listen to my audio book of A New Earth, by Eckharte Tolle this morning, which quickly reminded me, for the gazillionth time that the purpose of life is to be present, and to let the illusion of separateness & ego dissolve into a more universal connection with the All of life. And with that reminder, I returned to being more present in my overtired, dehydrated body. When we don't feel good physically, it is so natural to want to spend time up into the head, a dangerous space because it's where identification with ego happens. But being in the body can happen tenderly. Little by little. Sensing aliveness in parts of the body. The hands. The face. The experience of breath.

Playing with awareness. This is what I teach in my dance lab class. And this is what I need in order to return to presence. Put your awareness where it is tolerable. And then slowly put it where it is less tolerable, and soon enough, every human experience becomes tolerable, becomes an opportunity to experience pure life.

And only now, could I finally make it back here to the blog. To share the block and the awareness of the block. And this is how we unblock. Little by little.

Once again:

Start from where you are. And that will get you back into flow.

If I want to help people to be more alive, more human, more fully themselves, I need to be willing to share my process too. So here it is.

Comments? Questions? Stories to share?

Who am I and what am I doing here?

How do you describe who you are or what you do to someone who doesn’t know you or to someone who thinks they know you?

This is one of the hardest things to do, especially if you aren’t sure, or if you know that in your most authentic version of yourself you defy traditional categories, or if you feel you are a complex and ever-changing combination of contradictory patterns, ideas, feelings, thoughts and experiences, or if you are in the process of manifesting something new in the world that belongs to your destiny that is continuously unfolding before you.

I am always practicing to clarify what I do (or who I am) in words, so that the next time someone asks me at a cocktail party (I don’t get invited to lots of those, but the next time I do, maybe I'll be ready), I can tell them what I do in a brief paragraph that captures their imagination, with out having their eyes glaze over in confusion or boredom. It has never felt right to use traditional or singular words to describe myself: musician, artist, therapist, teacher, writer, coach. I can be all those things, but it's not just any one those things that I am trying to be in the world, but really a combination, a synthesis. An integration. I believe this is the new way to be in the world. I think specialization is becoming antiquated, and so are traditional career paths. The leaders and trailblazers of the new earth are pioneers, warriors, multi-passionates, transparent and vulnerable sharing their message through owning their personal story. This is my unfolding path, and I believe this to be true for many others all over the world.

The other day I had a glimpse into a possible bio to put on the front page of this blog for someone who doesn’t know me personally, and has never visited before. If my goal is bring more strangers into my web of inspiration, which it very much is, it feels important to create a quicker way for people to understand who I am and what this blog is about.

What I wrote is not that brief, but it is as brief as I can possibly make it at this moment in time. It's not perfect, but I think it will do, for now.

Zoë is a rock-n-roll poet, heart & soul revivalist, integrative philosopher, champion for the inside arts, student & teacher of the Self, art healer, child of the 70’s and mom in the process of reinventing motherhood. Her mission is to create an enchanted life of meaning, synchronistic with the manifestation of her unique soul and to inspire others to follow their own extraordinary journey.

Zoë's greatest loves, besides friends & family, people in general, especially children & even certain dogs, include:  passionate & clever indie rock, dance of all varieties, comedy, improvisation, social practice art, fashion & graphic design, true deep stories, sad songs, mythology & Jungian psychology, children’s books, Fisher Price toys, tarot, embracing duality, inspiring documentaries, the open sky, wildflowers, hugs, creative collaborations and elegant theories that connect everything in the universe.

Brooklyn born and bred, she and her California redwoods born husband have transplanted to a stunning piece of raw desert in the foothills of the Sierra de Laguna Mountains, overlooking the Pacific Ocean, on the Southern Baja peninsula of Mexico, where they are pioneering both a homestead & careers that suit and engage their idiosyncrasies, while raising their wild & kind-hearted Mexican-born son. Eschewing the needs for comfort, ease and certainty, in order to embrace a do-it-yourself life in the desert, with lots of tools (digital & analogue), inspiration and bugs. They are continuously in the process of building & growing a life from scratch, that is freer & messier, slower & simpler and yet, more complex.

This website is a testament to the love & creativity, truth & beauty that continuously flows out when we are present and engaged with everyday life, when we are listening both to our inner world of intuition & heart, as well open to the feedback that our environment provides. It is also a record of the creative byproducts of life fully lived. It emphasizes process over perfection. Compassion over judgment. And love over fear. It is a celebration of nature & culture, and their fascinating exchange. It is a form of integration of Zoë's many selves, including especially, the more vulnerable shadow—giving space for expression of both darkness and light, the deepest longings and breakings of the heart.

Zoë is here to live out her soul’s code--Creative Magician of Self—and to share the inspiring tools that will help you awaken yours.

It is never too late to be who you already are.

Can't Say A Better Day

Many of the inspirations for my songs come from clever, in the moment things that people near me express, which I then write down. One of my latest songs, Rock-n-Roll Thing came from a spontaneous statement of self-knowledge Emilio made at 3 years old. He told me during one of my music appreciation sessions with him. We were probably listening to The Runaways. Joan Je(Which he called The Runways.) "I'm a rock-n-roll guy. I'm a rock-n-roll thing." I was delighted by his confession, and of course, related deeply to it. Later it inspired my newest rock song, which I am currently in the process of recording. Learning how to actually record your music is yet a whole new skill. It's not easy. This is why I love improv.

Last year, Emilio was having a moment of feeling high on life and he came into the house from playing outside singing the hook for a great new song:

"Can't say a better day!" expressing his pure joy and enthusiasm for the present moment.

I immediately got out the guitar and this is what we recorded:

Speaking of kids rocking out, my mom sent me this clip today:

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Fun with Design

I LOVE DESIGN. I started playing with graphic design as a teenager. I made a wood cut print for the poster for the school play. In those days I was too shy and quiet to actually get into the plays--but I still tried. Instead I was cast as the dancer, or in this case the graphic designer!

Over the years have taught myself graphic design and web design, and have since integrated my photography into my designs. More recently I have been teaching myself hand lettering and improving my hand drawing skills. It turns out that you really need a pencil for hand lettering. Up until then I have always been a pen and maker girl--which gives you a lot less control and a lot more permanence. But last year, I fell in love with pencils, which are great for getting your hand drawn designs perfect, thanks to a nifty little thing called an eraser.

I've always thought it would be fun to work in advertizing, and that I would have a knack for both the copy writing (I love catchy slogans) and for creating eye-catching, psychologically resonant design. The only problem is I have become anti-consumerist, and I could never bring myself to actually work in advertising. So, instead I apply my marketing skills to promote what I believe in. Running my own business/organization, Art For Life, and the blog, my music as well as others' projects I believe in--these are wonderful opportunities to use my design skills everyday to promote creativity, the arts, compassion, consciousness & multiplicity.

Here is a sampling of my latest designs:

The photograph for the Mariposa Night poster (below) was taken by my husband, who is a wonderful photographer, and features the cute little face of our Bear. This poster is a great example of our creative collaborative relationship: featuring: photography, hand drawn art, graphic design, light projection & our child.

I also have designed (and am still working on) several websites. Including, of course zoëlab.

ZOË DEARBORN

ART FOR LIFE

BRUCE HERMAN GALLERY

OKRYNA

CUATRO VIENTOS BAJA

After the Rain: a photo essay

Every summer, a bunch of our stuff gets ruined because we leave it outside before the rains come. This may seem shocking to some people. But we are developing a new philosophy that accepts the fact that we own far too much stuff, and that nature sometimes has to do her thing. I could be more careful, but somehow it hasn't happened yet. And it makes such an interesting art project to capture what nature does to culture. (And vice versa).

The artwork was from a series I made in grad school, and the photos were prints I made in the dark room in college. The police car is Emilio's.

Creativity is about creation & destruction.

I think I am going to add some of these to my Culture-n-Nature Gallery.

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Musical Collaboration between Lucas & Emilio

Last year, Lucas and Emilio collaborated on a spontaneous song project. Lucas played guitar while Emilio improvised a song--this was the result:

For further inspiration of parents collaborating with their children creatively, check out this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxQSEvHdyjQ

And these: 

family drawings.

Latest ZOELAB Album Cover

I haven't posted in a while due to a series of illnesses in the family. Everyone is on the mend, but it has taken me away from zoelabbing. In addition to parenting, I have also been working on some design projects, recording my songs, securing a new office space for myself in Todos Santos, cleaning up our newly sealedbedroom building (¡Nada mas murciélagos y guano!), which is now its finishing stages (we started construction in 2012), as well us helping out with the construction of our new guest house (photos of that process coming soon).

One of my favorite things to do as a designer is make album covers. Garafön, my band with my husband, will be releasing 15 -20 songs over the next months, or years (we'll see how long it takes me to learn how to a producer/recording engineer on top of a songwriter, singer, guitar player), so I will have a chance to make an album cover at least 15-20 times. But in the meantime, I am making album covers for zoëlab.

Here is my latest, and therefore, favorite one:

I took this photo of this moth after I discovered it convulsing half stuck under a cement paver stone in front of our house. It was fluttering its wings in a manic way. I rescued it from under the cement (but not before I took a video--sorry moth, but sometimes art must come first). And laid on the ground. It fluttered a little longer, and then it was still. And then I took this photo.

I must say finding the moth in the state it was in--felt like a message from the universe. A direct mirror of the feeling I've been going through lately. Impatiently trying to flutter my wings and fly, but realizing I am not quite ready yet, and therefore, still need to be on the ground. Once I freed this moth, it wasn't ready to fly yet either, and was still for a long while. I tried the same thing, and it worked. I started resting more. Slowing down. And then I got sick! Ha! My body and my psyche knows what's up. And so does the moth.

Secret Powers, a short conversation with Emilio

A conversation between Lucas and Emilio, who just turned 6 the other day:

Emilio: Your secret power, Dada, is your funniness.

Lucas: Oh, and what's mamma's secret power?

Emilio: Sadness. And laughter.

Lucas: What's your secret power?

Emilio: Fart balloons.

Me: And observation.