a deep reflection in the mountains of oaxaca
a peaceful mountain getaway . . . was exactly what i needed.
a reprise from the mazunte, coastal mexican heat. a break from the intense energy of buzzing air and rapid fire . . . i needed to reunite with earth, with the forest, the trees, the plants and the birds.
i desired to spend some time in the village, drinking chocolate con leche, meandering around the trodden village pathways, gazing at the pine covered mountaintops. hearing a thousand rooster cries each morning, walking to the vegetarian cocina at dawn and spotting many a mountain goat on the way down.
i first arrived in san jose del pacifico, which is another mountain village nearby, and hopped on a collectivo that would take me to the entrance of san mateo. riding in the back of this bumpy truck, huge bags of dried corn at my feet. droplets of rain coming down from the sky and kissing my cheeks as the collectivo bounced over a puddle of water. i was dropped at the entrance with no cars in sight, and directed to wait here, for another collectivo would come and take me forward on my journey to the next village.
i waited for some time, thumb in the air on the side of the road, hoping that soon another bumpy truck would come scoop and deliver me to my destination. crickets . . .
so, i began to walk on the empty, winding road, after asking some local folk what to do, and they gave me the same directions. "just wait, the collectivo will come on this road".
at the time, i wasn't so sure. silly of me not to trust.
i began walking down this road, with my 70 liter backpack and all, a canvas bag of edible delights strapped to my chest, peanutbutter spilling out all over my leggings . . . a hot mess.
i thought to myself "i pray that this collectivo arrives soon"
and just as quickly as i had put the intention into the universe, the collectivo arrived, moments later.
at the time, i was unsure of the location of the place i would be staying. my wonderful slovakian friend had left san mateo the day i was to arrive, and instructed me to find "the red lantern cabanas", and informed me that she had passed word to the owner that i would be arriving that day, and to leave a room open for me.
so i simply put my trust in the universe that i would be guided to where exactly i needed to go, and sure enough, i was.
on that bumpy collectivo were two french men, who had happened to meet my slovakian friend the day before. they all happened to be staying at the exact cabana i needed to go to! a simple "follow us, we will take you there" and i was on my way to my little home for the next few days. synchronicities continue to align us and protect us. these little moments are simply the power of magick and manifestation in action.
Cuarto Vicenta - The Red Lantern Cabañas
upon arriving at the cabañas, i am greeted by the most incredible mountain top view of the entire village. from up above you can see the many casas, the church, and centro (the centre of the town).
a house next door to the cabaña. growing and flowing with many of earth's green treasures.
a beautiful mountain view, lad-den with mystic purple flowers - reaching out from the leaves to whisper you their lavender-laced secrets. i would pass this view each morning on my descent down into the town centre, and each time i would stop to give the flowers an embrace, whether it be from my sense of smell or the simple rubbing of their petals in between the tips of my fingers. each time they echoed their secrets into the imprints of my thumbs.
a humble store carrying a variety of goods . . . 'abarrotes' means groceries in english. i would stop by this place to buy avocados and bananas to keep me fueled on my journey.
a wee baby goat cooing and cawing. loud roosters cock-a-doodle-dooing.
sweet animals basking in the sensations of dinner time.
you find these blue enamel pots just about everywhere in mexico. old rusted pots with broken handles were repurposed as lovely plant pots, housing little succulents and various native plants.
the desk in my room , with the most awe-inspiring natural light and view of the village. featuring my woodland treasures - small wilting ferns, and pine needles that i tucked quietly into my bag while brushing through the forest. using their potent energy to inspire my creativity , my writings and my art - makings.
a small journal i hand-crafted for the intention of using it as a tool for expression during my mountain time. i stitched it together using an exact-O knife, hemp string, a wooden bead, and some glue. the cover is a ripped up piece of an old painting that i no longer resonated with, so i decided to repurpose. the feather comes from a deceased chicken and was gifted to me by a loving artist friend that lives in a triple wide art studio trailer, nestled in the appalachian mountains in a little community called meat camp. i fastened this special feather onto my journal with a bit of glue. i see this little booklet as a stand-alone art piece - a message from my past lives and a bridge to my present and future existence. being an artist and a multi-faceted being i am always wondering and contemplating the mystery of my existence here on earth, what all my many forms mean and how they continue to take shape. traveling in this beautiful country i am frequently reminded of home. i find ways to remind myself of those special blue ridge memories. i am allowing myself to experience nostalgia in a kaleidoscopic way . . . whilst unpacking the conditionings of my psychological comfort zones. my subconscious is prevalent in this object , weaving together stories of past present and future.
the plants that tickled my heart and touched my soul. i do not know them by name, but i know them by spirit. i remember their energy and they remember mine.
alive + aligned. scribbling my 2021 goals in the back pages of my scrappy journal.
the back of my journal. samples and layerings of acrylic paint. a quick scribble of a date, 'datilles' in spanish, as i was asking a woman at a fruit market "tienes datilles?" and she was unsure of what i was looking for - so in my broken spanglish and with weary hands i drew this image for her. she laughed and shook her head no, and i went on with my day, continuing the search for my favorite sweet snack . . .
i created this piece after moments of prayer. i asked my spirit guides to flow through me, to grant me their wisdom so that it could inspire me to create. this is what flowed out. i have been dreaming of eggs and circles and auras for many moons now. the shape of a circle feels so attractive to me, it sets my energy and artistic mind ablaze. i feel expansiveness, fertility, unity, cosmic energy . . . our essence unfolding and flowing outwards from our inner cores. i gifted this piece to a woman i met in the village. the synchronicities of her story and the visions i received while creating this piece were un-coincidentally aligned. i see these synchronicities as a reminder that i am healing, that i am a healer, that the universe is my teacher, that we are all here together, to explore, to love one another.
me, my painting, the sunset, mystic purple flowers, and our meandering descent into the village.
the closing of a small chapter. every moment in life can feel like a story if we allow the romanticism and beauty of the world to enter our consciousness and inspire us to narrate our lives as ever-changing stories with so many twists and turns. seeing our eyes as our paint brushes, our visions capturing small lifetimes in mere seconds, and painting these small lifetimes onto our canvas. this canvas can be paper, it can be connection, it can be anything that is a sounding board for our experiences. the paint brush represents the tools we use to create these visions. the paint brush can be the pen, it can be our voice, our camera, our movement. our canvas is the universe and we are the artistic masters. our experiences are our lives work. i choose to live life romantically. i choose to live life through dreams. i choose to live life through color , in color , seeing the opportunity in every moment. i choose to embrace all of my emotions, shortcomings, desires, and fears. existence is powerful. the complexity of the human experience will forever capture and captivate me.