Every morning I awaken at around 5 a.m. I make myself a French press of coffee or perhaps a masala chai while the early light glimmers through my windows. This time alone is vital for my soul’s well-being ~ my daily rituals give me space for my creative spirit to dream up new ideas and lean into awakenings. The house is cathedral quiet and uncommonly beautiful ~ a lovely way to begin the day.
As I sip my coffee I write in a journal or notebook ~ I begin the day with 20 minutes of freewriting which I cannot say enough about. I simply put pen to paper and write of anything which floats to the surface. Still connected to the magical unconscious part of dream sleep, I allow my thoughts to flow unbridled. I write about absence and presence and chocolate, hummingbirds and my favorite coffee cup. I write about his smile and old wounds I didn’t know were still there ~ I write about the moods of the sea and my son’s delicate hands and my daughter’s true heart, and as I write I get more in touch with who I am. My deepest essence streams through the motions of my pen.
Later, I will lean into my yoga practice, write poetry or listen to a tiny desk concert on NPR ~ and then make myself some Irish oatmeal for breakfast. These morning rituals are my daily commitment to my soul’s longing to express itself and they keep my spirit bright and enlivened.Tell us about the seeds of your unique, artistic approach to life.
‘If I can’t be the poet, I will be the poem.‘
Long before I dared to even think about claiming the title ‘artist,’ I insisted on living as if my life itself was the work of art. I would dress in vibrant ethnic clothes, paint the walls of my home with jewel-toned colors, cook flavorful, adventurous dishes and explore world music with a passion.
Even in the smallest of ways my own particular flourish of panache painted its way into my daily life. Working at the cash of a retail shop, I would bring in a vase of wildflowers to delight the customers. If I made a pot of coffee, a sprinkle of Vietnemese cinnamon made it hum (and smell glorious). On my answering machine at home I recorded 30 second dialogue film clips of my favorite films to entertain my friends. I painted my nails sage green and streaked my hair with Indian Henna from the market.
To this day these are the seeds of my artistic approach to life. Everything I do in my life is art and an expression of creativity and the divine in me, and I love to celebrate everything that I do with a radiant spirit and deep love.
Describe the space where you write in your home.
A large glass mason jar filled with apple blossoms, a vase of pencils, a vintage tin with hummingbirds and butterflies painted on it holding a stack of cue cards each with a handwritten poem on every one. A nest I found in the woods by the stream where I walk my dog, a small antique oil painting of the sea, a pair of silver Indian Jumla earrings and a plastic kinderegg penguin my daughter gave to me.
There are cards taped to the wall sent to me by cherished friends.
My father’s typewriter, a silver claddagh ring from my mother and a tiny brass kaleidoscope barely an inch tall. The walls are silvery blue and a pretty crystal chandelier (almost fairytale in size) sparkles on the ceiling. Oh and there is jazz and feathers and scraps of poems and magazines and journals and little piles of polaroids.
In the evening, the moon slips through the window from behind the blue Spruce tree in the garden to play with my hair.
It is a small corner of my bedroom where I write, but it’s beautiful and it’s mine.Beautiful wisdom…
One of my most favorite films in the world is ‘Chocolate.’ It is such a deeply meaningful film for me in that it helped me understand the wild and the tame in my soul that was crying out to express itself creatively. This inner wild ‘cry’ prompted me to embark on a trip to India with my son Noah and changed the course of my life in so many ways.
These words spoken at the end of the film by the character Pere Henri move me to tears and resonate so deeply in my heart as a beautiful wisdom:
‘Listen, here’s what I think. I think that we can’t go around… measuring our goodness by what we don’t do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think… we’ve got to measure goodness by what we ‘embrace’, what we create… and who we include.’
Read about the mission of and philosophy behind Tap-In.
Be inspired by more Tap-In interviews: