{ burn out } - yogi. photographer. writer. survivor. austin, tx

Wake up soul, fold the covers back and slide your legs over the edge of the bed.
Things must be done, it's up to you.
Rub your eyes and clear your throat, this life is happening and you make it grand.
The dark swells will crash, but you kick and you kick angel and you stay above the water.
Push your feet into the dirt and let tears seep from your soul out through every pore of your body.
Don't give up, slow down and breathe as you need, it's okay to catch your breath.
Looking back will make this harder.
Chin up, chest high, you run.
Wring yourself from your depths, from emotion to skin press out.
The fragrance of your effort is musky love, close your eyes and drink it in.
Sigh out every pain, every doubt, every insult, every insecurity.
You carry yourself in a cloud of elegance, there is a golden grace in your belly.
Feel the music move your shoulders and lighten your steps.
The wind plays with your hair and holds you from every angle.
At the end of this day acknowledge yourself, that splendid, sweet self.
Be proud of you.

{ compassionate } - writer. yogi. mama. friend. photographer. austin, tx

I'm conflicted by the term "tough love."
I don't think you can overuse "I love you."
Everyone needs to hear praise, even if they can't receive it.
I'll hold my kids until I'm physically unable.
Even then I'll pull them close to me for snuggles.
Life is too short to let the goodness remain hidden.
Positivity can only be multiplied when it's given out.
There isn't time to beat myself up over mistakes.
Apologize, seek growth, move on.
My views may not be right for you, yours may not be right for me.
Love is the true foundation of all.
If you're sad, cry.
If you're angry, yell.
Silence is a strength and it can hurt on both ends.
One day my babies won't be babies, and I'll still baby them.


The tears come quick and hot, streams of pain down my face.
Sobs echo through my dark apartment.
I want to ease the pain of my loves, I can't take the burden for them.
I land helpless on my pillow and cry for the hand of God to hold my tribe.
I can't fix the problem, lift the fear, erase the past, or control the future.
So I sink into my bed, I wail to an empty room.
I call every angel to hold, heal, and protect my dearest loves.
Tonight I'm a vessel for heartache.
I know it, I share it, I feel it too.
I'll soak the linens in your un-shed tears as my own, with my own.
All pain is great, big pain.
All love is great, big love.
This massive pain is simply massive love.

{ movement } - yogi. lover. mover. mama. austin, tx

Brush my hair from my cheek and tuck it behind my ear.
Look deep into my eyes with your dark mystery and give nothing away.
Pull the salt from my eyes in liquid form and feel the vibration of my heart shattering.
Our connection is seismic.



Return to the woods lover, find your wolf and bask in her strength.
The most beautiful fur she lets you curl up next to and rest.
She warns you with a firm growl when danger is near.
From her you've learned patience and courage.
Go find her now.





I called to heaven and begged to know why.
Heaven answered that day in spades.
I asked for a reason, for purpose, for hope most of all.
"The darkest hour is just before dawn" whispered the angel into my soul.
The sunshine I crave, my stubborn will and active body thrive.
Present grey you're an illusion.

{ sit gracefully } - yogi. mama. writer. austin, tx.

Sometimes life is not obviously poetic.
It's mundane and robotic.
That's when I know it's time to change.
Time to remember myself.

I slip away to the world all my own.
I go to the memories that bring me strength.
Sitting alone in a restaurant with my book and my Ray Bans.
Walking the sidewalk in New York City in Givenchy without a hand to hold.
Climbing from fear to triumph.

It helps me to think of the times I've been strong.
When I said the words that needed to be heard.
And when I silenced anger that didn't deserve a voice.
I've cried the tears and sat alone.
I can run, I can push myself, and I can smile.

When it's not obvious, I have to dive in.
Today I tasted the sweat from my lip, salty and sweet.
I didn't love everything I saw when I looked close.
No turning away though, I accept.
My strength isn't in creating a change.
My strength is creating grace to be here.

{ journal entry } - mama. daughter. lover. yogi. austin, tx

It was the scent of fresh cut grass.
I rode to the trail and thought of you the whole time.
If you want to know if this is about you, it is.
Of course it is.


I wrapped myself in a purple cloak and twirled under a massive moon.
I ran away, because I run.
You chased me, or I wished that part perhaps.
Something hit my car as I drove away, I know my heart fell apart.
I picked myself up and began the repair.
Suddenly white all around, sunshine and kisses from heaven all over me.
Dreams in real life, pinch me.
I said "pinch" not "punch."
I claimed you took the floor away but I realize now that all along I'd been in the clouds with you.
No regrets, I'll keep falling from the sky if that's what it takes to fly.
Like tandem skydivers, grab my hands and I'll spiral with you.
We were puddles on the ground that time.
We were passion in the grass another.
I was all alone today.

{ take up my senses } - yogi. mama. lover. writer. witness. austin, tx

The morning was tangerine grey.
A red cardinal broke the colors of the sky and landed on a branch of forest green leaves.
Your flavor is scotch and tobacco.
There are so many textures and I recall each one but hardly have space to record them.
White surrounds me.
I'm eclipsed by the shadows of my own fears and I run away to seek certain pain.
At noon the light had turned yellow.
The cast of life busily acting out chaos while we sought serenity and sleep.
Clouds so fragile.
They looked as if someone had taken a brush and smeared them across an endless blue canvas.
Your warm hand on my waist.
I am Mother and protector, I am Child and irresponsible, I am Survivor and stubborn.
Your gaze pulls me in.
A quick magnetic glance and our eyes lock momentarily, you're the only to make me look away.
Each day holds some powerful second where my world explodes.
Fireworks of life shooting into the air and bursting before my eyes.
Lay down a blanket on this hill, let's watch together.

{ perspective change } - yogi. lover. mama. believer. austin, tx.

From a balcony where I sat I watched you.
You were a speck in the ocean, jumping waves and enjoying freedom.
I knew you from the distance because I'd always known you from the distance.
Nothing has changed.
I know you from far away, your energy pushes mine and I fall.
You're still jumping into the waves and you're still free.
I hold you in high regard, even when you've made me insignificant.
Somehow tonight I'm on a balcony and I know you're a speck that should search for me.
I'm here with a spotlight, I've made it so easy, so clear.
Those damn waves you love to jump into, they pull and you crave it.
I tried to be in them with you but you want them alone.
The ocean to yourself.
I walk up the beach and look to the sky.
The white clouds against her blue heart reassure me.
My shoulders are warm and bronze.
I can smell salt, sweetness, and amber.
The sand is gritty between my toes.
This chin of mine held high.
Invisible wings keep me upright.
Each step I push the ground behind me to go forward.
I'm a moving beacon.
I'll be easy to find and hard to reach at this pace.

{ what year is this } - yogi. mama. writer. lover. austin, tx

That time. Your porch.
Storms all day.
White shirts. No words.
No regrets.

Yellow flowers. Sandwiches.
Never let me go.
Thunder. A breeze and blanket.
I'm lost.

Because the knot in my throat is so big I can't breathe.
The sting swelling in my nose and eyes from the rush of tears about to spill.
I'm an avalanche and the painful words broke loose the weight I've kept at bay.
There's too much pressure, I issued warning that I was dangerous, that I'm not okay.
You can't yell or push someone like me, this wave will not be stopped.
I'm sorry for what I can't tame, control, or explain.
I offer no apologies for my honesty.

{ grow up } - yogi. daughter. mama. survivor. austin, tx

I went to sleep last night in a pile of fear and bedsheets.
Before that...
I clutched my body pillow.
The short, synthetic fur soft against my legs.
The well loved stuffing inside crushed under my embrace.
It was too warm to have so much weight, but my cocoon was essential.
The folds of cotton around me held me the way I wanted my mother to as a small child.
My pillow held my head like a soft lap I could trust.
Laying in bed I told myself all the ways to heal.
I coached myself on how to breathe and recite mantra.
Recounted my truth, claimed abundance, and thanked god for support.
Anxiety did not leave me, but my body found peace to relax.
It felt tight when it crawled up my body and into my head.
I wanted to run away, toss my head back, close my eyes, and be finished.
I pressed my palm to my heart and said aloud "you're still needed and everything is fine, breathe."
Worry soaked up the tears from my eyes, took the blush from my cheeks, and put a white hair at my temple.
I was done giving so much to these self sabotaging thoughts.
I drew in breath and heaved out terror.
My muscles became too heavy to hold onto my bones and my weight intensified so that I sank deep into my worn mattress.
If the world consumed me, I'd go down breathing and clawing.


Today I woke up determined to find myself, my strength, my honesty, and my angels.

{ thinking in words } - yogi. photographer. writer. weirdo. austin, tx

She wrote the words from her heart which her head could not comprehend.
About loss and about living, about affection and about nothing.
She described the feelings and sensations that meant the most to her.
Sometimes she would share everything.
Other times she held it inside like a treasure guarded by a tiny smile, until the words disappeared.
It could be quite poetic and clear.
It could also be vague, enigmatic nonsense.
Could she slow down and savor all the words of each moment?
Lately she wondered, how are so many words lost?
Her mind constantly full of adjectives and experience.
It was time to acknowledge the need for these words.
Not some, few, or the sexy ones.
All the thoughts, celebrations, and fears deserve deep exploration and voice.