Category Archives: Creative Writing

things inspiring me at the turn of a new year

The turning of a new year feels like a threshold. A liminal space where the old hasn’t fully released and the new is still forming. I’m approaching this year with reverence and a willingness to listen.

I’m inspired by emptiness and pause, by moving slowly enough to feel my breath, my body, and the subtle ways intuition speaks. Though I’m nearly 60, this season is teaching me that becoming is a spiritual process, not something to force, but something to tend. I often feel like I’m learning things I wish I’d practiced in my 40s.

Music, art, and tarot are my spiritual anchors. Music connects me to vibration and frequency, but also to younger years, to innocence and curiosity, adventure and fearlessness. Music brings me back into rhythm when I feel scattered, and art is a devotional practice, a way of communing with the divine through color, texture, and movement. It allows emotion to alchemize into meaning without needing explanation.

Tarot is my sacred mirror. Not a tool for prediction, but a language of images and symbols that invite dialogue with my soul. Each card is an invitation to slow down, to notice what is stirring beneath the surface, and to trust my inner wisdom over all the external noise.

My rituals tend to be simple yet intentional. Making my morning cup of coffee. Lighting a candle before I begin. Playing music with awareness. Creating without an outcome in mind. Pulling a card and sitting with its message as a form of prayer. These practices ground me in the present moment and remind me that spirituality lives in attention, not performance, and for one who has struggled with crippling performance anxiety, it is an invitation to let go.

This year, I’m choosing devotion over productivity, alignment over striving. I’m honoring rest as sacred and simplicity as a form of truth. I’m learning to recognize the divine in ordinary moments: A familiar melody, light through my window, the quiet companionship of my beloved pup.

As I step into this new year, I am trying my best to do so with soft faith. Trusting timing, the unseen, and allowing life to unfold as it will. Let me be guided by sound, symbol, and creative spirit, for they are truly the languages through which my soul remembers what it already knows.


Down memory lane. Oh, how I loved classic rock growing up. This playlist stirs up cherished memories, a sense of innocence and curiosity, and the wild, adventurous spirit of those years.

a gentle life

I want a slow, simple, peaceful life,
one that doesn’t ask me to live on edge,
one that doesn’t grind my bones to dust
just to pay the goddamn rent.

A life where enough is enough,
where healing is a calling
that feeds me too,
not just everyone else.

I want mornings that open softly,
light pouring in without alarms,
hands in fur and feathers,
the quiet language of animals
teaching me how to breathe again.

I don’t want castles.
I don’t want keys to forever.
I don’t even care about a home.
Just a place where love is close,
where the ones I need
are within reach of my voice.

Why is that so goddamn hard?
Why does something so small
feel near impossible,
like asking the world to stop spinning
for one gentle hour?

And still, inside this tired chest,
there lives a stubborn spark
that keeps whispering,
there has to be more than this,
there has to be a slower way to live.

So I hold that whisper
like a candle in the dark
and dream of a life
that doesn’t hurt to wake up to.


Honor Rest & Renewal on Samhain

Today, I pause. I breathe. I rest and honor my ancestors on this blessed Samhain.

I’m grateful to have the day off – to simply be. To sit in stillness and solitude without the weight of expectation feels like a blessing in itself. The veil is thin today, and I lean into the presence of those who came before me – my birth mother and father, and the lineage of ancestors whose names I may never know. I honor them, and I honor the mystery that connects us across time and space.

Lately, life has felt full and demanding. I’m working full-time again, and though I hoped summer break would bring the restoration I so deeply needed, fatigue seems to have returned too soon. Halfway through the fall semester, I find myself wondering how to sustain balance – how to counsel others, meet the demands of my current job while not forgetting myself.

My dream remains clear: To eventually transition into full-time sound therapy work. Supporting my adult daughter these past two years has delayed that shift, yet I hold faith that in time, things will align. When she finds her footing, I’ll be able to step more fully into the work my heart longs for, creating healing spaces through resonance, stillness, and sound.

Despite the challenges, I’m proud of the small steps forward. I’ve completed my website, OM Sacred Sound Journeys, a milestone that feels like planting a tiny seed. Beginning next February, I’ll offer bi-weekly sound therapy sessions, a sacred rhythm I hope will grow into something sustainable and nourishing. 

I’m reconnecting with my musical roots, singing and playing for a herd I once worked with in equine-assisted psychotherapy and slowly returning to my guitar after years away. These small acts of reconnection remind me that healing unfolds gradually, as does starting a private practice.

Self-employment feels both thrilling and terrifying. The freedom to follow my calling is overshadowed by the very real worries of bills, rent, health insurance, and all the practicalities of life. Yet amidst uncertainty, I sense that this path is where I’m meant to go.

So today, under the quiet light of Samhain, I choose rest. I choose reflection. I choose to listen deeply to the whispers of my ancestors, to the call of my own heart, and to stillness. May this season bring renewal, remembrance, and faith in what is yet to come.


Photo by Catherine Crawford on Unsplash

Dark Moon

Hello World! Wow, it’s been a minute since I last visited WordPress. It is the eve of Mabon and the Autumn Equinox – if you live in the Northern hemsphere – and  Ostara and the Spring Equinox – if you live in the Southern hemisphere. I will be observing Mabon bright and early first thing tomorrow morning before work…sigh…with a group of other like-minded and spirited individuals. It is also a dark moon or new moon, my favorite.

I am not a morning person, well, more accurately, I’m a slowwwww morning person and hate rushing. I am not a fan of the 8am-5pm work-life schedule of which I am now bound, against the clock at every damn minute of the day. Who’s idea was that anyway? I’m dreaming of cutting that cord, but the day has not yet arrived.

And so the wheel of the year continues…one cycle ends making space for a new one. What lessons have I learned? What paths have I traversed? Hmm…Life has been one continuous wheel of never-ending “tower moments” for the past two and a half years. I hope something more peace loving and soul aligned arrives soon. 

Things that keep me grounded during tower moments include art and spirituality. Collaging has become a beloved outlet, a wide open space to tap into creative expression. It’s such a satisfying artistic art form. I love designing a collage, selecting the photos, pictures, etc, to create a narrative. Maybe I’m the only one who gets it, but who cares! My spiritual practice has taken a nose dive now that I’m back at work. But little moments here and there are better than none at all.

I hope to travel to Taiwan over the winter break in January to visit my birthfamily. My eldest sister has already reserved a hotel. It’s been 13 years since I last saw my birthfamily. I never intended to wait such a long time to revisit. We are much older, and good health is not guaranteed to any of us. I truly hope I will have the energy to be present with my family, not some shell of myself. This academic year, I vowed not to get to the level of burnout I experienced last year. Steps to protect my energy are always at the forefront of my mind. 

In the meantime, welcome Autumn! I look forward to cooler days, to pumpkin pie, and the holiday season. Oh, and to slowing down, of course. Autumn is my favorite time of the year! I do love it so. Hoping you are all safe and well wherever you are. May cooler weather bring a welcome change of pace into your life!


Feature Photo by Šimom Caban on Unsplash

Photo Gallery: Collages by moi!

Lotus Summer

Greetings! I’m enjoying the last few days of summer before I head back to work. Tomorrow. I must say, I look forward to Fall and the change of season. Mabon falls on September 22nd, which gives me something to look forward to. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, summer has been immensely restorative; I’ll refer to it as Lotus Summer. Lotus flowers are deeply symbolic in many cultures. Lotuses grow in murky, shallow waters. They rise from the mud without stain, and are therefore viewed as a symbol of purity. Because they return to the water in the evening and open their blooms at the break of day, lotuses represent strength, resilience, and rebirth, as well as transcendence: The lotus symbolizes the human spirit transcending over worldly matter since it blooms from the underworld into the light. I feel, in many ways, like the Lotus.

It’s been a summer of exploring themes around death and rebirth, cycles, beginnings and endings, blooming, rising up from the mud. When last semester ended, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. It dawned on me recently how little I accounted for the impact of divorce on my wellbeing. I was functioning on adrenaline those first several months of the divorce proceedings. And when it wore off, I plummeted. I’ve discovered that there’s much literature on the impact of divorce on individuals, how it affects their work lives, relationships, and emotional and physical health. I grossly underestimated my ability to manage work, the loss of my dog and support of my daughter, financial instability, three moves, starting over. I thought I was stronger, better, more capable, more confident. But I sank, and I’m usually a stronger swimmer than that.

It’s now late summer – Rebirth. I am standing, not sinking. The divorce no longer feels like a black hole. There are moments of deep sadness and grief. I’m not sure one ever gets over it completely. That’s just me. A friend of mine, a psychotherapist who divorced years ago, told me to expect a three-year-mucking-through-shit; my sound healing mentor, also divorced, said give it five. I rolled my eyes. How little did I know. It’s year two.

I read recently,

The lessons we learn along our journey and the pains that come along with them are but stages on the wheel of regeneration.

Death Doula Oracle – author & photographer – Theodore Saint & Chris Williams

Indeed. So much gratitude for the time off to recover, to regenerate. Solitude and rest were the medicine, and making the request to change my 12-month contract to academic year may have saved my life. I have spent everyday this summer writing and recently took to collaging my journals. Can’t wait to collage my next. Also into drawing dragons of late. Interestingly, I barely listened to any music; much more preferred silence. The only other time I could not bear to listen to music was after the death of my first dachshund, Peppermint. I’m slowly weaving my way back to some favorite artists and bands from the 80s – that era holds a certain nostalgia in my heart that’s quite comforting. And, I miss my younger self. I’ve shared a few moments of summer inspiration here.

And, on I go. Wishing you all a beautiful day. Stop and marvel at the tiny things that bring you joy and pleasure. May you tend to the soil of YOU!


-Photos above were taken at Laguna Beach, CA, by moi on a venture with a friend.

-Yummy matcha coffee & garden pics taken at Anima Mundi Apothecary in Venice, CA.

-My collaged journal-Summer theme: Death/rebirth/exploring the shadows within.

-Little dragon ouroboros drawing-not yet finished, but I’ll eventually get to it.

-Purchase the Death Doula Oracle cards here. They’re powerful cards for working with themes around transition, transformation, death, endings and are absolutely gorgeous.

Feature Photo by Kristijan Arsov on Unsplash

The Magick of Slowness

Hey out there! Hope you’re having a swell summer. The temperature here is not yet sweltering, so I’m enjoying windows open daily. I’ve been on summer break just over a month – it has been glorious. There is a magick in this liminal space, the in-between semesters, that has brought healing and restoration. I am no longer who I was, yet I am not quite who I am to be. Last year was tough, maybe one of the toughest I’ve ever experienced, but it had its life lessons, and I am taking them to heart.

I’ve been savoring slow mornings, slowing down in general. It’s lovely to leisurely sip my morning coffee without rushing. I have not missed disconnecting from others one bit. Journaling, personal study, spirituality have all been life saving. But mostly the magick of slowing down, sweet silence, the echo of presence, noticing each breath have led to divine surrender, wisdom, and liberation. 

Summer break will come to an end, and I will return to work mid-August. The test of wisdom will come in finding divine balance, countering stress and the pace of work with a solid inner spiritual foundation, finding the power within to face each and every challenge. There is this – I have the rest of the month to indulge in solitude and cultivate my inner divine badass.


The video below is of female French trio, Les Itinérantes. I adore them and recently discovered their music. I find this song, Sahèl, to be quite powerful.

“Sahèl” is a composition in Eldali (a language invented by Elodie, one of the vocalists) that invites you to reconnect with “the source,” to rediscover meaning and roots through a connection with the living, the pursuit of authenticity, and the recollection of ancient memories.

“Sahèl anouvel iè,
Vènia assoulèkh na
Sahèl anoukrie biè,
Chakh liè bioun èlia”

The source is calling for you over there
Approach, let yourself be guided
The source roars below
Join its flow if you dare.

Rage

I have been hermit-ing this summer – doing some shadow work and exploring anger and rage. In the past, I was not very easily anger; however, I’ve noticed that I’ve become quick to anger and irritibility these days.

I was raised in a home where emotions were not expressed. I have a difficult relationship with my adoptive mother. She was emotionally dysregulated frequently in the home, exploded into rage and anger at the drop of a hat. No one would have known outside of immediate family. I grew up fearful of her and her erratic moods. My adoptive father and I tended to walk on eggshells. I received the brunt of her anger; dad was runner up. My adolescent years were the most turbulent in the home. My mom became physically aggressive during that period. Anger felt foreign in the past. Now, it’s familiar. I excused others’ anger toward me for a greater part of my life. Now I am the angry one.

I found some old, angry artwork that I painted years ago, probably after an argument. And the poem above was written more recently. To craft a sacred alter to rage, anger. This, too, along my spiritual journey, to explore blocks, emotional truth, blindspots. To evolve and heal. I am finding support through the Kali Oracle deck by Alaina Fairchild, illustrated by Jimmy Manton. She is simply fierce, and her spirit is inspiring.

A Home Blessing

For alter, home, or sacred space.
Cast a circle if that is part of your practice.

By sacred breath and will divine
I cast this circle, draw the line
Here I am safe, here I am found–
Within these walls, now hallowed ground.

May love take root and passion flame,
Magick rise and speak its name.
Let humor dance through every room,
To lift the heart and chase the gloom.

Live well, my dear, within this space,
A haven forged in time and grace.
Where dreams take wing and hope may rest,
A sacred hearth where all feels blessed.

From shadow’s grip, the past released,
Old fears unbound, their hold now ceased.
New seeds are sown in fertile soul,
To bloom in light, to make me whole.

With every breath, let blessings flow,
As peace and solitude softly grow.
So may it be–by flame and sea,
By sky, by stone, by will in me.
✨ It is done. It is sealed. And, so it is. ✨

Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash

Summer Breeze

Summer break has finally arrived! Whew! My tiny space is coming together, beginning to feel like home, and my dog has adapted well to the space. She’s such a fierce bundle of joy. I hope to have her for longer periods of time. She is usually with my ex, as he works from home. I didn’t want to leave her alone for 8+ hours while I worked. I miss her, as we truly were attached at the hip. That’s Poppie below. There are no personal boundaries with a doxie.

I’ve had a couple of days to sit on the other side of a busy year. I became someone I didn’t recognize, an irritable, moody shell. I read some of my past posts and cringed. Some have been deleted. Slowing down is a gift to be savored. Perhaps a shift is on the horizon. I trust in divine wisdom and that clarity is yet to come. 

Last night I took a stroll around the neighborhood. The scent of jasmine is lovely this time of year, and the neighborhood is heady with it! There was a nice summer breeze, like that Seals and Croft song, 

Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind.

I plan to catch up on some blog reading soon. Gosh, it’s been a while. Happy writing, and wishing you a stellar day!


Feature Photo by Emma Dau on Unsplash

life is anything but…

Hello World. I moved this week over Spring break. Thankfully, I had the week off. My third move in two years, post divorce. It’s been rather stressful. Don’t get me wrong, I love my new place, and the area is terrific. It’s very small, yet much closer to the beach. I have gone back and forth to Goodwill to donate stuff all week, and still, there are boxes of stuff, a closet full of stuff, and wall art that won’t work in the space. I think I may have to sell my digital piano, as it doesn’t fit anywhere. I sold my newish dining table and other things to decrease stuff. I am trying not to complain, as I truly love the area. And the neighbors on either side of my unit seem great. It’s just been tough, and I’m heading back to work next Monday. More to do, as my car is also having issues that must be addressed. Tomorrow, I’ll spend the day at the automotive shop. Timing, it feels as though I’m swimming upstream. I’m staying put for as long as possible!

The week before the move, I began having panic attacks – again. Haven’t had one in a while. I’m grateful they weren’t as bad as others. No ER or EMTs. I moved due to a feral cat situation at my last rental that never went away. The cats continued to poop on the property. A month before I decided to break the lease, the homeowner finally addressed it by putting rock on the front lawn and wire on the fence in the backyard as deterrents. It did very little, as the cats continued to show up, as though to say, “Stupid humans; we own the place.” The neighbor next door feeds and cares for the cats and has done so forever. So if anyone were to go, it was me. Homeowner refused to release me from the lease, which doesn’t end until July 1st. It has just sucked all around.

I hope that moving will eventually bring peace of mind. My car was starting to smell like cat poop – gross! Okay, so this is the end of my little rant. I know somewhere there’s a rainbow.


Photo by Illiya Vjestica on Unsplash

the path less thorny

show me the way
to the path less thorny
where the waters are quiet
and my mind still
where there is ever a quiet corner
away from the grind
and I can sit without worry
there I feel at home,
nestled under a sky loaded
with stars, the moon suspended,
the heavens open wide
on the path less thorny
I live another life
time flows gently
and I am strong again


Photo by Aleksandra Boguslawska on Unsplash

Misshapened

how i hate disappointing you,
the silence that follows,
it screams of failure
that hammer
in my nervous system
sounds the alarm
my younger self, her face
beet red and burning,
insides churning,
hands balled up
in tight little fists.
my younger self rages,
silently turning her pain inward
i am not fooled by
your sugar-coated words
and pious efforts that appear
like some kind of holiness;
they just as quickly
become poisonous quills
i must let go,
for in letting go I am free
it is a double-edged sword,
a delicate balance,
power and sacrifice,
relief and sorrow,
feeling everything
and nothing at all,
often at the same time
i weep for all the things lost,
despite the things gained
my heart is misshapen,
yet a misshapen heart
is better than an
imprisoned one
let me rejoice in
having a heart at all


Photo by Felix Rottmann on Unsplash

For Best

What to do when the answer’s unclear,
when unable to obtain the clarity you seek
knowing that the wrong decision could
wreak havoc, make life rather bleak.
Oh, the anxiety that spins me round and round.
It makes me weak; I cannot ground!
Feels like a terrible pounding in my head,
and I cannot catch my breath. It’s caught
somewhere between my ribs in spasms
of fear and uncertainty. I must go forward,
for surely there is no right or wrong,
only what is, what might be.
May the clouds lift and the sun promise
a day without panic. Be patient, my dear,
do not to fret, for the answer is near,
though it may not be what you want,
it is for best.

Big Magick

I have been home sick. Worked remote yesterday but today called out. I really don’t like to call out sick. I cannot remember the last time I felt so run down. Ah, it was when I contracted COVID in 2020, followed by a chronic subdural hygroma that was excruciatingly painful. So weird. Who knows how I ended up with a hygroma. I did not anticipate that the work at my present job would be so tough … Seriously, I don’t think I’m a hypochondriac. I typically love life, freedom, creative expression, music, art. I’ll be out for winter break in a month, at which time I will glory in slow mornings, drinking a full cup of coffee, and avoiding the damn 405 like the plague. Nearly a month off, yessss!

I watched an interview with author, Elizabeth Gilbert, who appeared on the Mike Birbiglia show after my work day. I followed Gilbert’s Big Magic podcast for a while and greatly admire her independence, her break from the long held expectations of females. I love that she feels happier in solitude and perhaps more productive, certainly, freer outside the confines of romantic entanglement. I appreciate her views on creativity and work and her ethics related to avoiding that pressure to utilize your creativity as a sole source of income. She noted that she had multiple income streams until her fourth book, Eat Pray, Love, took off and made her a successful author. I have been considering what work path to pursue that allows for increased quality of life and creativity, less stress, and less “helping others,” as truly, I am burnt to a crisp. The more intuitive side of me begs to come out and play. I keep telling her to be patient until I have more space, stillness; her time will come. Life is short, is it not? Especially at this age when there are fewer years left to live. I’d love to engage more in what inspires me – writing, nature, reading, playing music, sound medicine, growing plants, animals, magick.

I am possibly the worst business person ever. I learned that after having a private practice for a couple of years prior to my current job. I admire those who run their own businesses. Self employment comes with a caveat. You have to be successful to sustain a living! And California ain’t cheap. Lessons from Liz Gilbert. Don’t quit your day job to pursue your creative interests. I appreciate that Gilbert was her own sugar mama. I also resonate with the notion that there has to be another reason to make art besides the market. She talked about the book she decided not to publish, The Snow Forest, due to the war between Russia and the Ukraine. Ukranian readers expressed their disdain at the release due to the book’s Russian setting. Gilbert said it took three years to write. But she got the message, how harmful it would be to release the book at such a time, two years after Russia invaded Ukraine. Wow. It is sitting on a shelf for another time or maybe never.

I’m trying to wrap my head around the idea of creating work for the simple joy of creating, whether others see it, read it, like it or not. Wouldn’t it be dreamy to make money doing what you love, but for some of us, perhaps it’s not in the stars. There will always be others who are more talented, more ambitious, more successful, in their prime. Maybe I need to aim higher. Manifest more diligently. One can daydream, even in mid-life, and make shifts slowly towards a path that is more fulfilling. I am too old to work this hard, at least my body tells me so. And I must listen. Wimp or not, it is personal choice and the freedom to have that choice. When I have figured it all out, I will let you know. It may be a little while yet.


Photo by Sofia Holmberg on Unsplash

Happy November 1st

Hi out there. Hope this post finds you well. I’m enjoying a day off of work, as I celebrated Samhain with a friend last nite. We honored our ancestors, practiced some divination, had some drinks. It was a fun, magickal evening.

I recently connected with a shaman who I’ll begin working with soon. She spoke of a strong ancestral presence upon our first conversation. I was never interested in my ancestry until I found my adoption contract, hidden in my adoptive parents’ attic for who knows how long. It found its way to me immediately following my adoptive mother’s funeral, as though my mom was saying, “I want you to have this now.” The contract revealed things my adoptive parents hid from me and likely falsified. So many things were untrue. My adoptive mom made sure that all ties to my birth country were severed. On the rare occasion that I brought up questions, she became weirdly paranoid, asking who put me up to asking such questions. I didn’t pursue it. It’s been 12 years since I visited the country of my birth, Taiwan. I’ve wanted to return but life happens and so many things have gotten in the way. My hope is to return sometime next year. And I hope that in working with this shaman, I’ll connect with my birth mother and perhaps other ancestors.

I haven’t written any poems lately. We’re so fatigued at work from a very busy fall semester and previously, a not so slow summer. Fatigue has a way of crushing creativity. I’m glad to know it’s not just me but my colleagues also feel it, the burnout. Secondly, I go back and read some of my poems and think, this is such shitty poetry. What possessed me to write poems? On the other hand, it was therapeutic while I went through a divorce. Freedom. It feels good. Yet there are some days when the loss comes up so strong it literally catches my breath, and I cannot believe where I am, how I made it out, what I’m doing. It’s not so much the loss of a marriage but what I left behind…my dog, my piano, my music books, the little nest I built that was home, etc (I will retrieve those things when I have a permanent place). Even the dissolution of the most toxic marriage is felt as a loss. I don’t know how else to explain it. I have felt the gamut of emotion, sadness, anger, anxiety, worry, hopelessness, uncertainty. At times, I sometimes still feel transient, displaced. No one would know that I’m grieving. I come across like I have my shit together (most days). And on we go.

Samhain lasts till sundown this evening; the veil between this world and the “Otherworld” remains thinnest. So maybe some spellwork today and divination. Certainly, pondering my ancestral roots, the birth parents I never knew and honoring my birth mother in particular. Wishing you all a very blessed day. I thank you for stopping by and hope to catch up on reading your posts soon. May you enjoy the turning of the season!

With You by Kalandra. To my soulmate wherever you may be…Honestly, we have multiple soulmates, but this song is so beautiful I’m sending it out…lolol…And I’m currently obsessed with this band.

Photo by Daizy Isumi on Unsplash

shadow of you

out of this body,
out of this mind
running frantically in place
as though running out of time
in my dreams i search for you
amid a forest thick with mist,
but you are not to be found,
and there i remain alone and adrift
when suddenly you appear
under a half-lit waning moon,
time seems to stand still, illuminated
yet you disappear far too soon
i reach blindly for your shadow
to it shall i cling,
but your shadow slowly fades
no solace does it bring


Endings, live performance by East Forest

Photo by Sven Brandsma on Unsplash

forever young

there’s this uncanny feeling i get
deep down in my gut
like we knew each other
in a past life
i’m most sure of it
my dear friend
who would have known
that after all this time,
we’d end up partners in crime?
hittin’ downtown
like we’re jewels in the crown
soakin’ up the sun
oh, let it be written
that we own the night
under gilded moonlight
you the mage, I the madness
a toast to us,
to all we’ve lost, yet become
may there be more days like this
living life to the fullest
you and i,
forever free, forever young


Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

She

she looks to the sky
for some divination,
some explanation
for the way things are
why did the stars align
as they did on the day
she was born?
why was she vanquished
to a place where she languished
until it was decided she’d
grow up foreign?
daydreams and portals,
she was anything but normal
drawn to the celestial,
a bit of a rebel
a Starseed is she
when things get too troubling
on Earth, she is struggling
she remembers how silly
of her to forget
that she is
the love of her life
she will survive
she will yet thrive,
and that is all that she needs


For my fellow adoptees who know too well the hurts caused by adoption…

Berceuse in D-Flat, Op. 57, Frédéric Chopin. I love this piece so much and have always wanted to learn to play it. Chopin was always so difficult to play for lots of different reasons. I have small hands, and in Chopin’s piano literature, there are often large intervals that I had to get creative playing, not to mention the technical difficulty. I was an average pianist in my abilities compared to my peers and wasn’t super diligent with practice. I mean, 8 hours a day of practice was just not me. Four was about all I could mange. If super inspired, maybe six, lol. I learned one of Chopin’s Ballades (A-Flat) in my undergraduate piano studies. It was such a beautiful piece – I remember wishing that I could perform it better. I also recall another more technically advanced individual telling me it was Chopin’s easiest Ballade. I just wanted to say, fuck off. I truly hated the perfection required in classical training. Always riddled by performance anxiety. Probably why I despised performing and liked dancing and acting better – you could improvise if you messed up. I do admire pianists who achieve that level of performing. I think I’d be a different performer now, however.

Anyway, one of my professors performed the piece during a recital, and it was such a lovely performance. Was mesmerized. I like Gorlatch’s performance, as it’s at a tempo I prefer for this piece. He makes it look so easy! In fact, this piece is really difficult. So much is subjective within the limits of the period and style the piece was written in. It’s interesting to compare pianists’ interpretations. There is a performance I enjoy slightly more, Wibe Soerjadi, but couldn’t find on YouTube. I love alternative/indie/classic rock and other genres, but often go back to classical when I need to get more grounded.

This piece fit the poem above. Enjoy.

Photo by Rémi Jacquaint on Unsplash

let go of ego

this is where i find myself
struggling to embrace
all that is the human experience
i’d soon forget our race
dying to let go of ego,
vying for some balance
finding shelter incognito
in a kind and gentler space
remember who i am,
remember who i’m not
let go of shallow words and gestures
how tiresome are your arrogant thoughts
to live and breathe a life of love
of this i shall pursue
i have no time for human games
i long for a life, a love that’s true


I Hate Everything About You-Live Acoustic, Three Days Grace. An oldie but goodie…my “I don’t give a fuck meter” is at an all time high. Full song lyrics here.

Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash