If I was a Love Goddess, my precious necklace would be made up of a string of magical moments, experiences that I will treasure forever, that can never be taken, lost or stolen, or dropped in the sea…
My travels haven’t all been unicorns and fairies. In fact, I have met some pretty rude trolls on my journeys, and I don’t mean the cute kind with the fluffy pink hair; I mean the dark slimy kind that live under bridges.
My motto: Sell the jewels, take the trip! In 2018 I had a banner year–I lost my father to cancer, my best friend to suicide, and my marriage to infidelity. I didn’t know what to do to keep my head above water, so I decided
It’s a magnificent time when our girls start to blossom into women, but it can also be a jarring time, as their hormones begin to swirl and their bodies start to change. Creating a ritual to honor their journey, set intentions for their path, and
And even all these years later, when the world seems so sad, I love to think about that transcendent night: sitting under the stars with a beloved friend, a bottle of wine, and singing so exquisite that it took my breath away, filling me with irreplaceable treasures that money could never buy.
And now, I have a marvelous treasure safely stored in a rainbow silk scarf, some fragile fragments of a certain palace, a palace so beautiful you can still see its reflections in the sky over Mt. Kilimanjaro when the light is just right.
I don’t know why, but somehow, in my 20’s, I ended up dancing on many tables. As a professional belly dancer, I have been pulled up to dance on hundreds of tabletops, but I’m surprised how often I have ended up dancing on tables while
I hope when the time comes to bet on yourself, you double down.
And maybe that’s the true beauty ideal: capturing real and honest moments in all their gorgeous tattered raw authenticity… like catching fireflies in a jar, or catching powdered sugar on your tongue as you bite into a hot beignet while a guy with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth plays a dilapidated piano on the street corner, spinning pure magic out of a wooden box made of strings and keys, and even in my overly-snug dress, I step into the sun and dance.
When I travel, I can’t resist a quirky hat shop. While exploring Candlemaker’s Row in Edinburgh, I ended up in a hat shop called Rosie’s. My best friend, Kim and I, tried on hat after hat, taking on their personalities, from jaunty riding hats to
