Tuesday, December 14, 2010

photography in motion

photography in motion



city hall, philadelphia

exploring my artistic side with photography



location: frankford and cottman ave, philadelphia

The Power of Yoga

As a recovering cynic, I am learning that we must take pleasure in the simple things in life. I am told to reflect of the moments and times where I am at “my best.” And while I wish I could answer that I am at my best all the time. I simply would be lying. I think as humans we have good days and bad days. I believe that those bad days allows for the sweetness of the good days. I am truly at my best when I am practicing yoga. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. These are two simple techniques that transform my life every time I practice. Why yoga? I am at my best when I practice yoga because it allows me to learn, accept, and embrace my body. On the mat I travel to a place that knows no bounds. As I inhale. I learn to accept the imperfections of my curves. I exhale the voices of popular culture. That say that fat is ugly. Love handles are not lovable. And that perfect bodies do really exist. Yoga allows me the space to truly express myself. Yoga is the expression of love. Yoga is about awareness. About the union of breathe, movement, and love. I learn to love my body in the presence of victorious breath. I embrace it for all of its curves, love handles, and flexibility. I learn to appreciate my body during my practice. It’s all about me. The outside world means nothing. Yoga allows me to look within. I focus on the source of all of my strength and inspiration that is God, love, and the freedom of self-expression. Inhale. I become one with light, joy, love. As I inhale I ingest the cool breeze of a hot summer day. I sniff the smell of sage burning. I breathe in the beauty of life. How sweet it is! Exhale. I let go of negativity, darkness, and frustration as I exhale. I let go of anxiety. I release it. I renounce. I give up all inhibitions. I’m vulnerable and strong. I’m weak and able. I am a worrier and survivor. I imagine myself inhaling all the goodness in the world. There is good in this world. The rays shine on me as I salute phoenix. Her fire radiates. My glow shines. I am at my best on the mat. I am allowed to express myself creatively. Freedom is the priority on the yoga mat. It doesn’t matter what happened yesterday or this morning. Yoga allows me to be in the now. And learning to be in the present allows me to show appreciation for my body, my self, and my mind. What a radical shift. For a negrita stuck in the past. Yoga is the bridge to N-O-W. Yoga is to be, to live, & to embrace the present. Living in a world that lives in the yesterday and obsesses in the tomorrows. We miss the gifts. But I make yoga my present. Yoga transforms me. Love is a radical shift. Yoga is love. Namaste.

written on 7 June 2009

Saturday, December 4, 2010

from a weed to a beautiful lavender colored tulip.

i read at my first open mic. no longer a poetic virgin. although i still feel like a poseur. i read this piece below.

(these words were born through an activity given to me by my therapist. i was to write about my body. how i see myself and how i want to see myself. it was an amazing writing exercise...)



i stand crooked and insecure. brown and awkward. i often go unnoticed. folks pass by me without even a second look. i am nothing yet i am something to somebody. this weed, me, growing in a sea of manicured faces. beautiful faces that look at me with questions like who is she? why does she look like that? i stand out like a sore thumb. there is no way getting around it. i am different. my branches do not curve. they are unattractive. difficult to look at. my legs are weak. the wind is blowing me left and right. i am fighting to stand tall but am unable to. i fight to raise my back but i fall back to my feet. until one day the rain washes away my sadness. the manicured lawn is shining bright. something comes over me. the green zombies start to morph into these dry, brown objects. lifeless beings. something is happening to me. this power is going through my veins. my brown stems are changing colors. ROYGBIV is starting to glow on my feet.

i stand tall, poised, and confident. no longer brown and dull. but black and bright. the sun is hugging me. my African ancestors are holding me up. i’m no longer afraid. i have the spirits of mi abuela, mi tia tata, mi abuelo ‘tin, and so many of my other kin. they made a path for me. i will not let them down. they planted the seeds of love, compassion, and courage on this growing bud. as i rise i notice that i am taller than the cookie cutter faces on the green pastures. i rise with a power i have never felt before. my green limbs resemble the beauty that i always known lied within. i stretch my hands out in mountain pose. the purple petals hug me and they stretch out. my salute to the sun is returned with a glow that brings my other petals out. the lavender kisses my face. i shift to warrior pose. then crescent moon. other petals just begin to grow. my strong, toned legs are holding my pose. i am a female warrior in a battle for my life. and i win. i choose life. from a weed to a blossoming tulip. i know that my growing is infinite. my beauty has no bounds. i am who God intended me to be. a beautiful, lavender, blossoming tulip.

namaste.