“Holding on to something that has lost its magic, lost its mutual respect, hurts more. Elsa understood the assignment.”

Tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine. Love is found in knowing. Seeing and being seen. This is how we heal.

Less I. more We. For the good of the community.

Knowing you’ve got my back is everything. When we were sleeping till noon and binge watching scrubs. I never could understand the complexity of the future.

I look around and see all the beauty that is possible – all the beauty we can make. Together.

When all the noise is gone, there is so much to hear, to see, to appreciate. Detoxifying from a past that does not fit now.

Vegans don’t walk on egg shells.

Somehow in all this grief I found joy. Sharing art with you has made me whole again. And again.

When we share art we extend a hand. We hold a mirror. We adjust our focus. We hold each other. We weave a collaborative story. Together.

Every day we keep telling the same stories. Over and over. We forget that our endings can be different. So can the plot. I think it’s time for some surprise endings.

It might be time. To do that thing. In fact it has been time for a while.

In this culture of winners and losers. Your trauma is your trauma. This is not a measuring contest of pain.

Tell me to calm down. Go ahead. Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me how it actually works. Try to make me feel small and insignificant. But I see you. For the insecure, power clutching man you are. Good luck. You need it.

I am slowly finding my way back into my skin. Or maybe that’s not it. I am growing into a new skin with knowledge and time.

A year ago everything started to change. I didn’t think I could come out on the other side. The view is fine. I’m fine. Better now.

Without authenticity you are nothing.

It’s possible to be all the parts of you that live in your heart, brain, and body. Not divided into containers. A giant messy wait of authenticity. Where you are all the things. All the time.