Skin on Sundays

See Colors

to be colorblind
is to 
miss
so much 
beauty

Sunday,

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This poem is a reminder that “colorblindness” where skin color is concerned is not welcome. People in the world with dark skin are subjected to (and have been subjected to for a long, long time) acts of discrimination, hatred, and brutal violence, physically and mentally, openly and discretely. To live with dark skin means to live in a world that is against you, a world that is harder for you than for those with white skin. Aside from the fact that dark skin is beautiful, ignoring skin color means ignoring the history and present of injustice that society imposes upon POC, and the darker your skin, the more likely you are to face those injustices. It is not fair to ignore it. The color of a person’s skin greatly impacts their life, whether we like it or not. Also, variety is the freaking spice of life. Why would we ignore the radiance and flavor and all-around loveliness that is our human variety? By the way, this is Mimi. She is from Ghana and lives in Barcelona and is a beautiful person starting at her physical presence all the way to the depths of her soul. Her thoughtfulness, kindness, and uplifting spirit are things you cannot miss about her once you begin interacting with her. In the face of discrimination, which is just as rampant in Spain as it is anywhere toward POC, she keeps her head high and stays proud of who she is, a deeply intelligent, caring, and wise-beyond-her-years woman. She is an inspiration, and the energy she brings to a room does not disappoint.

+ an aside:

I often feel ashamed that I don’t have that much variety in skin color for my physiopoetry. The shame comes from the simple fact that I want everyone to feel equally represented here. This is a space for love, for openness, for honoring and embracing our differences, for understanding ourselves and others. I have been putting more effort into finding canvases that will represent the human race in all of its shades of skin, because without effort, I rely on volunteers only, and I guess for some reason, the people who have generally volunteered so far have lighter skin. Representation (for example in art) is important for so many reasons, including showing ppl that they are valid and welcome and loved and respected and honored in society through that representation. I will continue on my quest for Skin on Sundays to equally represent all because it is so important to me that no one feels less welcome here because of their skin color.

Loveliness Bends

Let me shine 
a light straight 
through the center 
of your darkness,
just like the hole 
a dream makes
in the night, 
loveliness bends.

Sunday,

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This is Sua Lao, the only person I’ve ever trusted to hold me upside down balanced on her feet. I don’t even know how she got me to trust her to do that, other than her powerful forces of energy transmission. It was a couple of years ago when I first went to her house and it was just going to be for some physiopoetry organizing. But suddenly, there I was, my body twisting in ways it does not usually twist, flying above the ground on the feet of this tiny Cuban-Chinese woman who I barely knew. I think it’s important to mention these two divergent roots of her heritage because her essence radiates a mix of the zen values of the East and the psycho-magic of Caribbean culture. She’s both calm and intense, flowing and sparking, letting the rhythm of tranquility and chaos in life equally guide her, move her, teach her. Maybe that’s what led her to first yoga, then acroyoga, if you’re following my line of connection there. And she is absolutely brilliant in what she does. Yoga and acroyoga practice with Sua has been different than anyone I’ve ever practiced with. She reads the energy you bring into a room and uses it to inform what your body needs. For me that has meant the tension in my shoulders and back melts away when the session is over. It means I leave with a body loose and a mind clean.

If you’re in Barcelona, she gives private sessions in a beautiful yoga room in her house, and also on her roof, where the whole city is spread out before you, from Tibidabo to the sea. Get in touch with her. Go see her. You won’t regret it. And happy Sunday everyone. I’m sending some of the magic Sua left me with straight to you.

Love’s Absence

Is love’s absence stronger
than love itself?

Sunday,

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Friday, Jan 25, 2018 was the release party of my new poetry coloring book, Seasons of Yourself, a collaboration with a phenomenal artist Claudia Sahuquillo. To celebrate, we had a party at Porta Roja in Barcelona, and in that celebration, seeing that we are both body artists, we decided to do some live body art with volunteers at the event. This is the first one in the set. First of all, thank you so much to Anna for her bravery to unrobe at a public event, and though I wish a woman taking off her shirt didn’t require bravery, it does, and I want to recognize how bold and strong and progressive it is that she was one of the woman warriors who did it.

I wrote this poem with the color red in mind, so that there would a connection between the paint and the poetry, a way to bring everything together in synchronicity. We all go through seasons inside of us, some warm, some cold, some light, some dark, some fiery, some romantic, some in grief, hope, love, and on and on. This is one representation of a season many of us might relate to, one that brings us to the very question the poem asks. Have you ever wondered this? I wonder what the answer is. 

The Water Listens

The water listens
the ocean
the lake
the pool
the rain.

Sunday,

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This underwater episode was brought to you from the magical land of Cocoyoc, Mexico, a teeny tiny town just south of Mexico City. The peace of this place, of being surrounded by a garden of fruit trees and green grass, away from the noise of the city, it is irreplaceable. I think I would go crazy without being able to escape the chaos. Ale was so generous to share her house with me last weekend, and there we relaxed, frolicked, and bathed in the sun. There we went where Skin on Sundays has never gone before: underwater. What a wonderful thing to bring photography underwater. It’s not easy with a GoPro to tell if your shots are coming out, especially because you can’t see them as you are taking them, especially because the words have to be clear and visible. And Ale jumped in the water again and again, and we took tons of shots. How amazing and even a bit enchanting it was to find something so elegant as we looked through the photos. I feel refreshed just thinking of that pool and that garden and that house in the country again.

The Unexpected Gift

When the chaos
of the heart is close
the gift is to be vulnerable

Sunday,

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There are a lot of gifts that come with love, and one of them is vulnerability. Some don’t view this as a gift, but let me assure you that it is. It is a gift that expands our minds and brings us to share our deepest secrets. In that expansion and sharing, it turns us into new versions of ourselves, and we can’t go back to who we were before. It changes us forever. Every love is one day over, whether from break up or death. Here we have made ourselves susceptible to shattering. As we should. If not, it is inevitable that love lacks lack depth. That shattering is not something we generally look forward to, yet it is a necessary part of the love cycle and its equilibrium. If there were no grief in heartbreak, the magic of love would disappear with it. Thank you Pru for being the beautiful inspirator and vehicle for these necessary words.

The Instinctual Road

Two roads diverged
in my mind
and I listened
to my body
to decide.

Sunday,

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You know that poem “The Road Less Traveled” by Robert Frost? This is a remix that is more about listening to your body and your instincts when making a big decision. Usually, decision-making is associated with rationalizing and weighing pros and cons and carefully analyzing, but one ignored part of decision-making should also be your gut feeling. What is the natural road to take, and why might your body be telling you to go that way. It is something to consider, and something I have been trying to pay more attention to lately. After spending a little time with my lovely canvas Dharma, I realized she is also in this journey, letting her instincts be a guide for her decisions instead of letting rationality be the sole guide. It’s a beautiful thing about us, humans, that we have the brain power to think things through. Yet our power to think then takes over completely, and our instinctual side is often forgotten. I’m just saying, don’t forget about it. There’s a lot our bodies know, a lot in the process of how we function that has its own answers for us. All we have to do is listen.

Why We Are Here

The dogs and daffodils are sleeping in the yard. The sun is over them praying in afternoon ease. It’s Sunday, which means energy is collecting from believers. From there we don’t find answers, but we can still exist peacefully. Remember that dogs and daffodils do not pray, do not care about what is invisible, nor consider anything a waste of time. All of this living is equally meaningful or meaningless.

Sunday,

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I originally wrote this poem inspired by a prompt meant to include dogs and daffodils. This is what I came up with. I love those kinds of prompts, free associating with words just to see what I come up with. When I was getting my MFA in poetry, one of my classmates and I would go once a week to this cafe nearby and do just that (in part because we had so much poetry due all the time and we needed to keep the juices flowing). We would go back and forth each coming up with a random word and writing for a minute straight without stopping to gather our thoughts, straight stream of consciousness. In my sub-conscious world, there is so much about living in the moment, about not worrying about things I can’t control, about letting my instincts tell me what is right and wrong and true, about not spending too much time wondering that I all but disappear from the physical world and fall too far into the metaphysical world, about the constant pull between holding onto things and letting things go, about what it all means, us being here, and also, being able to just exist without needing to know why we exist. This is a little glimpse into my mind for today’s episode of Skin on Sundays. Why the egg/vagina? It’s kind of a stretch but it’s some kind of weird cross between which came first, the chicken or the egg, and how that kind of thinking ties into my thought process and the poem itself.

Awe

What now may rise
stepping out from under
the awe of darkness?

Sunday,

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This is Nora (28, Mexico City). She went through some shit in 2018, and that chapter is finally closing.

++

There are periods of our lives where we are destroyed, from broken love, from insecurity, from doubt, from pain and grief and mourning. There are people we fall for who we just can’t seem to shake, even after we’ve ended things, somehow we keep going back to them. And the reason we ended things was because we ended up losing who we were, not necessarily because of them, but the combination of that person and ourselves left us as a shell of who we were. Someone we barely recognize anymore. It’s so hard when it’s over and we know it has to be over and it should be over, but we’re still in love. We don’t hate them or resent them, and so we struggle to place all that sadness, to direct it, to manage it. It’s like we wake up everyday, and the house that we live in is falling down, over and over and over, and there’s no way to stop it and no way to get out. That house is our body, and who we are lives inside. Even when we finally have the energy to pick ourselves up, to exercise and meditate and yoga and therapy the negative energy out of us, at first, it only serves as a distraction. Though, as time will tell us, eventually, slowly, it will move the brokenness out so we can feel fresh and comfortable and easy in existence again. The experience will never permanently leave, as it is a part of who we are now, but we will re-awaken, and start our lives as this new person we’ve become, taking that darkness with us and using it for something good.

Painting My Life

I’m over here
painting my life
like the energy
of the moon
on the tide.

Sunday,

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It’s impossible to take complete control over your life. If you think you do have control, that’s an illusion. However, that’s more in reference to a macro level. On a micro level, we have a ton of control. We can choose, like I did the other day, to give our home a fresh and lovely energy by painting some of the walls (hence in the this physiopoem, I used a painting metaphor). I chose to paint the walls, I chose to paint them cosmos gray, I chose to spend an afternoon doing it. And that decision impacts my life in a small but important way, changing the aesthetic and beauty of where I spend most of my time. However the deeper current here isn’t about paint. We can take control of little things in our lives despite not having control over life itself. You can choose to go on a walk or stay in bed watching Netflix. You can choose to drink coffee or refrain from caffeine. You can choose to stay angry or move on after a small argument with a loved on. You can choose so many little things. And some people who are privileged have more choices than others (privilege of money, health, nationality, skin color, gender, etc.), but in the end, regardless of our level of privilege, we all have choices we can make. That is how we can take control of days and moments. When life feels overwhelming, which if often can, I try to remember the control and agency I do have, and utilize it. Like maybe my purse broke and I don’t have the money to buy a new one, but I do have the ability to watch a YouTube video so I can learn to stitch it back together. Maybe my apartment doesn’t have a balcony as I would love, but I can make it cuter by painting some accent walls, you know? Take control of what you can, and roll with the punches for the rest.

Thank you to the beautiful Dharma (18, Morelia, Mexico) for being the beautiful canvas for this piece.

My Own Moon

I have
my own moon.
It lives between
my heart
and my freedom.

Sunday,

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The moon is a symbol for femininity, for intuition, for creativity, and for enchantment. I wrote this for Mariela only having hung out with her a few times, not knowing her as well as after we spent a whole day just her and I, as we made this episode wandering around Roma Norte, Mexico City. It’s so interesting that I wrote it before, yet even now, I would write the same thing for her, and not just because she let me know she feels a special connection to the moon. The moon in the poem is a symbol itself, for where I was supposing her femininity, intuition, creativity, and enchantment lie. Maybe it’s because she’s a great designer, because of her yoga practice, because of her style, and the way all that mixes with her way of being. I wonder what her next poem will be once I get to know her even better. Happy Sunday everyone. xoxo 🌙 ✨

Autoromance II

What other people think
doesn’t matter
if you listen to these
soft words
repeat them
like clouds
floating through
your cerebral
atmosphere:
I love myself.
I love myself.
I love myself.

Sunday,

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It’s easy to say we don’t care what other people think, but the only way to let the ugly words of others go is to actually not care. How to get there is a matter of how you value yourself, how you think about yourself, in the first place. If you love yourself, truly, deeply love yourself, if you trust and respect your thoughts, then what other people think won’t affect you. People are fickle, partly because they are taught to be that way, to criticize and put people down because they don’t hold themselves in high esteem. Have you ever noticed that the people who are so quick to judge and cut others down are the ones who are judging and cutting themselves down relentlessly? Those who are genuinely confident don’t need to try to make others feel bad, and find their energy better spent bringing people up instead. Cece, today’s canvas, is the latter type, and this is a message she firmly believes with her whole being. And those who believe it want to spread the love, to share the beauty of self-love—because in a world where we all love ourselves, we are finally free. Tag a friend who needs to hear this message today, so maybe they’ll be one step closer to the self love club.

The Perfect Body

The perfect body
is the one
you are happy
inside of.

Sunday,

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The perfect body is the one you are happy inside of. I try to get this message across a lot, because I know how much it needs to be absorbed by so many people. I know how society is full of body shaming, how the media continuously perpetuates that in order to be pretty, you have to be skinny. I know how easy it is to start comparing yourself to others simply by scrolling through Instagram. We think: I wish I looked like that, all the while forgetting that we are worthy of love and respect and kindness and admiration just the way we are. How easy it is to forget that beauty is subjective. How easy they make it to condemn ourselves for our rolls, cellulite, and chub. You know what makes it easier to feel good about ourselves, no matter how fat or skinny we are? Seeing others happy in their own skin. Seeing people of all sizes being confident and body positive, feeling happy with who they are, with their fat, with their height, with their thickness, curves, short hair, long hair, brown skin, pale skin, with their anything. That is the reminder we need, and we need it just as much as we see everything else. I was so lucky and I am ridiculously grateful to have met this crew of empowering humans in Houston, from left to right: Isabella, Paige, Chris, Lena, Ceecee, and Jenny. Every single one of them makes the world a better place just by being in it, each in their own unique way. Follow them all for doses of truth, beauty, positivity (body and soul), and love in your feed. Their smiling faces are no lie. The perfect body is the one you are happy inside of. Thanks for helping me bring this message to life, you gorgeous beings.

Desert Dancers

For the ones we love
we are the dancers
in the desert.

Sunday,

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In the midst of hikes around the Valley of Fire, today’s episode was born. It is about love in friendship, and how true, genuine love unearths beauty and mystical happiness. How going to a place like the Valley of Fire is lovely on its own, yet somehow can be still lovelier when you get to share the experience with someone special to you. It’s also about the way this kind of true love ignites. It brings out the best in us. It helps us be our greatest selves. I wrote about friendship before and I will write about it again and again, because I feel like it is too easy to forget how important it is for us to spend time with not just our lovers, but our friends. Jessica Lynch is on the right and I am on the left here. This is a piece to honor our friendship and our fierce bond. We don’t live in the same place anymore, so when we see each other, I always feel like my soul has been cleansed and refilled with the warmth and wisdom she so seamlessly bestows. I feel at ease, I feel free, I feel joy. And when we are apart too long, something starts to feel missing. Does that happen to anyone else, that too much time apart makes life blurrier and then time together again creates clarity? It’s a breathtaking aspect of my friendship with Jess, something I cherish with my whole being. And thanks to my amazing mom for taking this photo even though it was her first time using a DSLR. She is a fast learner!

Belleza

The heaviest beauty
is often buried

//

La belleza más pesada
a menudo es enterrada.

Sunday,

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Uriel and I went to a well-known market in Mexico City, La Merced, where you get off the subway and are immediately surrounded by stalls and stalls in every direction selling selling selling. Socks, quesadillas, glasses, mirrors, hammocks, wigs, playing cards, coffee pots, shoes, and on and on and on. It’s a labyrinthine market alongside busy streets, chaotic traffic, and hoards of people all around. Uriel told me he was doing a project that seeks to find beauty here, in an unlikely place. Why unlikely? It’s a rundown neighborhood, dirty, not considered to be the safest place around. When I told people I was going they, every single person said the same thing: BE CAREFUL. Yet there is so much beauty here. Underneath the grime, these are people’s lives, and it is beautiful, not like the manicured lawns and mansions in other neighborhoods, but its own kind of beauty. The people here, they are smiling, kids are playing, and the bustling market is a way of life. There is warmth and community and love. Beauty is everywhere, and perhaps when you have to look a little hard, that beauty becomes even more powerful. The chaos and dirt and poverty, those things can not be equated with ugliness only by their essence, though the global cultural standard is to equate them. In the middle of the market, once you’ve gotten lost and lost again, and you come out for air, you might find this mural that is in the works. It is a piece of stunning artwork the spans the side of an entire building, bright colors and figures towering over the market stalls. It is this idea Uriel asked me to write about, that beauty can appear anywhere, even where you least expect it. It is a blatant physical manifestation of something obviously beautiful surrounded by what most consider as not so beautiful. I beg to differ, and I think the mural begs us all to differ as well. It begs us to find a lens in every situation that warms our hearts with beauty. It provides a window into another perspective, a change of heart plastered onto our eyes. Poverty is not ugly. If you look at studies, poverty leads to some of the happiest people alive, which just goes to show that money is not a primary source of beauty. We can create it out of anything; we just have to have the will. Photo by the ever-talented depth of Uriel Velasco.

Transformation Season

We have a lot to learn
from the autumn trees.
How beautiful it is
when they let go.

Sunday,

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Autumn is here in the northern hemisphere, and changes are abound. Maybe you feel it in your exterior world, with changing colors and cooler temperatures. Maybe you feel it in your interior world, as the invisible energy of transformation guides you toward letting go of things it’s time to let go of, things that no longer serve you. It’s hard to let go, right? Even if the right thing is to let go, we get so accustomed to the way things are. Change is exciting but also scary. Change is work. While the universe may push us into these changes, may ask us to loosen our grip and to sway in the wind for awhile, the transformation that occurs as a result is the part that is uncomfortable; what lies on the other side is unknown. Where will we land? I think that specific fear has a really cool counter though. It isn’t really just about who we will be when it’s over. The act of transforming is itself beautiful. The act of letting go creates a sort of swirling of contrasting emotions, and the experience itself is lovely in its difficulty. Even if it’s “ugly.” I read not long ago about how ‘we shouldn’t have to see beauty in life’s difficulties, that sometimes it’s just ugly.’ I guess I feel like that is missing the point. The growth is the beauty, being alive after a fucking storm inside of ourselves, that is the thing. That is something. That’s what I’ve been thinking about this transformation season, and I wanted to share it with you. Thank you @hellomynameislove for your inspiration and light in creating this.

Fat

Fat
is a
beautiful
word.

Sunday,

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So many people, most of us, have trouble uttering the word ‘fat’ as a descriptor of someone. It’s because society has brainwashed us to have a narrow standard of beauty. To think fat is a bad word, a bad way to be. Fat isn’t bad. Fat isn’t ugly (clearly, look at Bella here) Society might tell you otherwise, but we have to change that. Some like to claim that it isn’t the media, but science, that tells us that being fat is bad and can lead to health problems. I think it’s still the media, and here’s why. Alcohol can lead to health problems. And cigarettes. And candy. And drugs. That does not stop a gazillion people from doing those things, and society doesn’t demonize them nearly the way they demonize people who are fat. Au contraire, drinking and cigarettes and drugs are often portrayed as cool. The point is, this woman is a gorgeous being, fat and all. Her aura is that of a real live queen. Being around her, her no-bullshit, confident af attitude is contagious; it makes you feel just as badass as she is. Seriously, it’s out of this world. It’s time we clean our brains of the media’s conditioning and stop thinking of the word fat as derogatory. Fat is a beautiful word. Fat is a beautiful word. Being fat does not equate to being ugly. Fat people are beautiful the same way that skinny people are beautiful. If someone is fat, because of some combination of their genes and their decisions, that is none of your business anyway. Let people live the lives they want to live, and don’t judge them for things that don’t affect you. Btw, girl, you are a goddess, and thank you so much for sharing your loveliness with all of us. Thank you for using your voice for something that makes the world a better place.

Won’t Break

Bloom like friendship
at 6am empty
ing of the heart’s
trash like only
this love can

Sunday,

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This is Ambar + Janis. They share a love of books and art and tea and beer. And this is a poem about their friendship that I bet many people can relate to. You know, the kind of friendship that keeps you up all night talking, with a person you can tell anything and everything to, a person who calls you on your bullshit and supports you no matter what. A person who makes you breakfast while you cry about anything, serious or nonsensical, who all memories seem amazing with, even if what was happening wasn’t all that great. Who tells you things about yourself that you didn’t even realize. Who thinks you’re amazing just the way you are. Who would let you move in in a heartbeat if you needed to. Who you don’t mind in the bathroom while you shower. Who doesn’t judge you. Who loves all your weirdnesses. Who you have a million inside jokes with. Who tells other people how incredible you are. The kind of friendship that lasts through squabbles and storms and brokenness, that will never end and you’re sure of it. This kind of friendship is so beautiful and should be sought out with the fervor that people seek out romance. It is true love and it is necessary af. I for one wouldn’t be sane without it. Would you? To the ones to whom you can empty your heart’s trash, this poem was also written for you 🖤

#skinonsundays x #ihadamiscarriage

A History of Loss

Seasons
come with rain,
come without.
The silence,
the stunning hope,
the branches fallen
from a storm
that were cleaned up
and hauled off.

The Size of a Blueberry

The soft beat
of a blueberry
when it falls
to the earth
versus
the vacant
silence
on the body’s
pavement when
it’s suddenly
gone.

Unknown

I am walking through
the frozen fields of myself
where I find you
on the other side
of a steel door.
If love were a substance
it couldn’t reach you here.
Only what remains when
love is stripped of touch.

The Soul Doesn’t Start at the Body

The secret: love is bodilessly
(the soul doesn’t start at the body).
The murmur here is like the moving air
left behind starlings.

They are using a tongue
so huge, it will break you
until you don’t miss it.

Five Hearts

Tragedy and love
are filled
with the same
relentless,
predictable
wildness.

Body Broke

The light
in my
body
broke
and the
darkness
changed
me
into
someone
that
could
heal it.

Heart-Shaped Things

A shape
that forms from
your deep wilderness.
It’s not just your uterus.
Your mind,
your fear too
is heart-shaped.
Does that change
how the darkness moves,
how the light?

The Incalculable

Dolor
like love
can be
as infinite
as energy
moving from
one form
to the next.

The Body Remembers

The body becomes the alarm
it has to become. It draws
a map as it wanders.
It will remember that it
was crushed, and that it healed.

Pieces of Your You

The moon
plummets
with pieces
of your you
into some
infinite
elsewhere

 

Sunday,

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This collaboration with Dr. Jessica Zucker‘s campaign @ihadamiscarriage seeks to bring awareness, understanding, and healing to pregnancy and infant loss through artistic ritual. These losses are an issue women are too often silenced/shamed about, and as a result, are left feeling alone during a traumatic and heartbreaking time of their lives. Why does society silence (& shame & belittle & fail to recognize & thus create further pain) to women who experience miscarriage or any kind of pregnancy and infant loss? My hope is that representing this loss through physiopoetry can serve as a vehicle in creating awareness for these losses, an awareness that leads to a change in how society treats them. All photos are by @rebeccacoursey_photosandfilm, a spectacular LA-based birth doula and photographer. October is internationally recognized as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, with the 15th of October being a special Remembrance Day. On this day at 7pm, people around the world light candles remembering and honoring the losses of these babies in a wave of light that lasts 24 hours. ++ 1. This is Shannon. During her first two pregnancies, she never got to feel a heartbeat. Now, being pregnant again has been filled with profundity and joy, but it also carries with it the weight of anxiety. Loneliness and pain and frustration and confusion and grief have become intrinsically part of her body’s memory of pregnancy. However, there is also hope, in and that hope, there is room for light to enter. This is the first time she has gotten to hear a baby’s heartbeat inside her belly. Celebrating is more difficult with the history of loss that accompanies it, but it is not impossible. It takes courage and strength and vulnerability to even exist as Shannon exists day to day. Thank you Shannon, for sharing this piece of yourself with me, for participating in this ritual to recognize your loss. Many who have experienced pregnancy loss will feel less alone because of what you have shared here. Others who have not will be more available to provide women who have experienced this the support and love they need, because of what you have shared here. I am included in the latter group. I want you to know that because of you, I am now forever an ally with my heart and ears always open to women who have faced the trauma of miscarriage. 2. This is Claudia. Her blueberry tattoo represents her baby that was never born, as that’s how big it was when she miscarried. This is her memorial, a treasure. For some time, the grief was unmanageable, living without her blueberry baby and with the realization that getting pregnant may never be an option. It’s so little talked about, pregnancy and infant loss, that it’s hard to know how to handle the emotions that come with it. Even if you can think in your logical brain that the pain will become manageable at some point, the hardest part is managing it when it is in the present. There are so many facets to this loss, and being hushed by society only makes it harder to deal with. 3.  Trisha never got to meet her baby alive. At 24 weeks, the heartbeat disappeared without explanation, and she was induced into an excruciating 11-hour labor, knowing her baby girl was already gone. She got to meet her, hold her, but then she had to say goodbye just as fast. The depth of pain of that experience. The hole it leaves, she has to live like now. Loss is permanent. Sure you can find a way to move forward, but you won’t be the same. And you shouldn’t be, I suppose. Not only will Trisha’s eyes likely fill with tears every time she thinks of it, but she can’t go back to not having felt those things, and that is a weight to carry through life. Talking about pregnancy loss more openly as a society will make the world safer for those who have gone through it. It’s so easy to be insensitive when we don’t understand something. A person who has gone through trauma, well the last thing they need is insensitivity from others. If we as a society can do something to help people who are hurting hurt even just a little bit less, we should. Talking about it will make us all more sensitive and empathic, because talking about it will give us at least a semblance of knowing how to talk about it more and more as time passes. Even that little thing can help a person who is grieving pregnancy loss. 4. Meet Mary. Miscarriage number 1 gutted her heart, but hopeful, she and her husband tried again. 3 more heartbreaking miscarriages followed due to a uterine abnormality. Mary surgically fixed the issue and got pregnant again, only to be shattered for the 5th time. Maybe for some things practice dealing makes it easier, but I don’t think that’s the case here. Instead, a boat of sadness takes sail in the ocean of your soul. Not long after the last miscarriage, Mary discovered she had breast cancer, and because of the treatment, she can’t get pregnant again for 5 yrs, which will put her at 40 yrs old. That kind of news is devastating, and while you can learn to live with it, freeze your eggs and hope for the best, nothing can erase the depth & darkness of emotion that accompanies so much loss. I say that, but Mary might be an angel. She believes, and I believe her, that her last miscarriage was a physical manifestation of her grief, that the universe and her last miscarried baby saved her life. Without that miscarriage, she may have nvr noticed the lump on her breast in time to save herself. Life is a nearconstant give and take, a forever whirling of emotions, and taking what you’re dealt and becoming your best self in spite of so much grief, that is special. Mary, you are so special. Whether or not motherhood is in your path, your gifts to the world are abundant (please check out her beautiful drawings), and so many of us are beyond grateful for what your presence brings to this earth. 5. Jessica is a warrior. In some way, all women are, just in being women, the same way any group stifled and repressed by society is. But we all have different jobs, different roles, and when I call Jessica a warrior, it’s because of the way she speaks out about what she believes in, how she empowers people with her words. I’m a writer too, so perhaps I feel an extra connection with those around me whose superpower is words. I learned from Jessica that in Texas, doctors are allowed to withhold information about generic abnormalities from pregnant women to remove from them the choice of how to proceed with their pregnancy. I learned about what happens to your soul when you want a baby so, so bad, and the doctor, a doctor you are so grateful for, for telling you the truth, gives you the news that breaks you, that your baby has those generic abnormalities that leave you with the hardest decision of your life, and you decide to terminate the pregnancy. And then it happens again. And that decision of what to do didn’t get any easier. At all. The other two empty hearts in that tattoo on her arm there, those are two miscarriages. The one filled in is her son. And maybe, maybe she will be adding another heart filled in. She’s pregnant now. She writes about all of this breathstoppingly difficult life experience in a powerful and shattering and inspiring way, which, let me tell you, is not easy. It’s not easy to go through it, it’s not easy to express it in a way that provides a realistic, ñmoving portrayal of what you went through, and she does it. Jessica is a warrior, and I want to thank her for sharing her story with me and with all of us, for being a light in her own darkness, both forces which have to exist alongside each other now. I hope you get your sixth heart, J. 6. Paula is a doula. She created WmnSpace, a place for women to gather, speak, breathe unhindered near Los Angeles, California. She also had a miscarriage, and although she made this beautiful space for women, sometimes you still need someone else to make a space for you, to tell your story, to feel heard and supported by way of others rather than your own doing. When Paula was being photographed, she asked that her poem be read there to her, straight from her skin, and in that moment, the ritual of honoring her loss felt like the moon coming out behind a cloud. It felt like there was this tangible thing, the words being spoken aloud, as if the act of this whole project was so much more than what the actions, the emails, the phone calls, the organization, the tears, the writing, the face-to-face meeting, the printing of the poetry onto the skin, the photographs and videos, the hugs, all of it, could possibly add up to on their own. I guess we do things like this for a higher purpose, and in the midst of it, it can be easy to get lost in the process. I feel so grateful for those moments that bring us back into the moment and help us feel the meaning in what we are doing. This art, this ritual, is more than the sum of its parts. 7.  This is Judy. You hear that miscarriage is “normal.” That 1 in 4 pregnant women go through it. That does not make it any easier when you go the ultrasound expecting to hear a heartbeat, then all there is is silence. When it happens again, the grieving multiplies, as does the fear, yet the sadness you keep inside. You don’t want to tell people what happened because you feel ashamed. You wonder if there was something you did to make this happen…twice. And then you find out your uterus is shaped like a heart, and that may be the cause of your pregnancy losses. It seems ironic that a heart-shaped uterus could be behind this, because hearts are symbols of love. Now your heart-shaped uterus has left you in so much pain—physical, emotional, and spiritual—has made you feel ugly. You feel like your body is against you, and the shame keeps piling on. Judy, you said the same emotions of those two dreadful days come in waves. They probably always will. Your experiences make up who you are, not just the happy ones, but the sad ones too. It’s ok to feel angry, to feel numb from what you went through. It’s ok to have a heart-shaped uterus, even if it’s not what you imagined for yourself and how your life would go. When you are ready to share your story with the people around you, I hope they will tell you the same thing. I hope they will hug you tightly and tell you you have nothing to be ashamed of. That you are a beautiful person, that you could have a million miscarriages and still be a beautiful person, and that you are allowed to feel grief forever because of your losses. 8. Miriam‘s daughter Sofia was quite active inside her belly for so much of her term, that when she wasn’t, it was very noticeable. Having had three healthy children prior, Miriam didn’t feel worried by this sudden lack of movement. She went to her ultrasound with excitement, anxious to hear her doctor tell her everything was fine. But it wasn’t. Sofia no longer had a heartbeat. It doesn’t matter if you have seen your body bring life into this world before, if you blame yourself or if you don’t blame yourself, none of that matters when you and your whole family have been awaiting the arrival of a new baby, and she doesn’t make it. It crushed Miriam, and nothing can undo the hurt of losing her. Miriam had her rainbow baby Daniel (a rainbow baby is the one that comes after pregnancy loss) this past summer, a year after her stillbirth, and I had the pleasure of meeting him and witnessing their bond. A lot of people think the pain of pregnancy loss is lessened somehow when followed by a rainbow baby, not realizing how much harder that sentiment makes it for someone like Miriam to grieve. She will never stop grieving Sofia, never stop missing her, and that has absolutely nothing to do with her immense love for her son Daniel. I think the point I’m trying to make here is that it is not ok to dismiss pregnancy loss for any reason, including if the loss is followed by a healthy baby being born. Losing Sofia has left a permanent hole in Miriam’s soul, so of course she is going to feel fierce depths of sadness when she thinks of her. The compassion we can all provide is inherently linked to understanding that the pain of loss, like love, is incalculable; for Miriam and many other women, I bet it would be less difficult if they didn’t feel like they had to keep their sadness a secret. Loving and cherishing Daniel and missing Sofia to the point of heartbreak are completely compatible. 9. Alissa told me her desire to have a family outweighs the fear with which pregnancy now fills her. Her first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage which left her traumatized—in physical pain in addition to the complex mess of feelings that come with losing a baby before it is born. For Alissa, her trauma included not only this self-altering fear, this overwhelming sadness, this crushed heart, but also the emptiness of failure. Because she is a lesbian, she and her partner spent time and money in order for her to get pregnant, so when she had a miscarriage, the hole in her life from where the baby would have been filled with guilt. Science may tell you that 1 in 4 women have miscarriages, so there is nothing to feel guilty about, but the mind doesn’t always listen to the logic of science. It creates its own story that implants itself in you, haunts you, no matter what people say. Maybe that feeling stays, though it probably goes away eventually, though the memory of that feeling remains. It is part of you now, the way that everything that happens is. Thus a happy-go-lucky, worry-free pregnancy is never an option for Alissa again. But fear won’t be enough to deter her from the life she dreams of, to be a mother, to raise a child with her partner. And if for some reason it doesn’t happen, I hope she in the end knows that she is not at fault, that peace will find her in another way, because she attracts it in her very being. Thank you Alissa for sharing your story, for helping to break the silence and destigmatize pregnancy loss, for being vulnerable in the name of shaping a better world and making it a more compassionate place to exist. 10. The reason I became aware of the social stigma of miscarriage & pregnancy loss is because of Dr. Jessica Zucker and her campaign, @ihadamiscarriage . I’m not sure how I found her page, but I am so glad I did. It was her own traumatic miscarriage that led her to create this campaign, and thru her own traumatic experience, it dawned on her: how she was treated even by loved ones goes to show a fundamental misunderstanding society has of pregnancy loss. How grief transforms when a large part of society does not even accept that you have lost something. Before finding Zucker’s page, I had never encountered women who had gone through pregnancy loss, or so I thought, so maybe I would have been one of those ppl who said the wrong thing to a woman who’s gone through it by not understanding the emotional agony that can accompany it. Understanding is a bridge to empathy. There is no reason so many women, yes 1 in 4 pregnant women experience pregnancy loss, should have to feel ostracized and terrorized and ignored by society when what they are already going through is so painful. And what’s more, as Zucker herself so eloquently put it, “This is not just about talking about miscarriage; it’s about talking about ourselves, and how we’re changed by any of the hard things we go through.” On the grander scheme, this isn’t even just a campaign for women who have lost babies, but for encouraging empathy at large. When I found @ihadamiscarriage, I saw a place of openness and understanding and peace within the chaos of this heartbreak, all because of community. Jessica has created this loving community that makes living life a little bit easier, a little bit more beautiful, for a lot of people. She is thoughtful, strong, kind, & wise beyond her years. I have learned multitudes from her in just this short time knowing her. She has impactfully changed the lives of many, including mine. She embraces the necessary darkness in life, all the while creating light in its wake. I am grateful to know her.

Mi piel no es un secreto

quien dijo que mi piel esta mejor en silencio?
quien dijo que mi cuerpo tiene que ser un secreto?
que soy una flor para proteger
que sentirse sexy es sucio
quien dijo que mi cuerpo no es una parte de mi alma
no es un océano vivo lleno de canciones de ballenas?

++

[My skin is not a secret]

who said my skin is better left unsaid?
who said my body has to be a secret?
who said I am a flower to be protected
who said feeling sexy is a sin
who said my body isn’t a part of my soul
isn’t a living ocean filled with whale songs?

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Any other mujeres out there harta de being judged by how we look, what we wear, how much skin we’re showing, if we look sexy, if we don’t, if we maquillarnos, if we nunca maquillarnos, if we don’t wear a bra? We are not prizes, flores, or possessions. Our bodies are nuestros cuerpos and we can do whatever we want with them. We shouldn’t have to hide them to feel segura. We shouldn’t have to hide them to be respetada. We shouldn’t have to feel ashamed cuando nuestra piel is showing. Algún día, if we keep fighting for this libertad, we’ll get it. Someday. Thank you to the beautiful dentist Melany for bringing this message to you all via her skin. It’s hard when you work in the traditional working world to break societal norms, even if it is in the name of art and progress, but she did it anyway. She knows all too well how it feels to be objectified, and it’d be nice if someday that would stop.

Elemental Manifestation

Rooted Redwoodfully
impassioned as a bomb
flowing the way the ocean flows
provocative like a storm.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Skin on Sundays is so much more to me than just writing poetry on people. It’s connecting with them in a way that I can make tangible through art. It’s opening up a world of poetry into the realm of the every day. That’s part of why I call it physiopoetry, because it is poetry made physical when it is normally stationed deep into the metaphysical world, inside of the mind and the self. Laura is a nail artist, and owns a boutique nail salon in the Las Vegas area. She is a friend of my mom, and we were introduced during my visit to see my parents last month. She is outgoing, witty, and charming, a person that makes waves, a person that stands up for her opinions as well as the people she cares for. She didn’t want to read the poem until after it was already on her skin, and when she did, she started to cry. As an artist, art is a part of my always world; it is embedded into my life like breakfast. It’s easy to forget that others don’t live this way, and when they encounter the kind of personal art I do, it can move them to tears. I am so grateful for my gift, but I am even more grateful that I have found a way to share it with others in such a meaningful way. When Laura cried, I choked up too. It’s profound the way this project has brought me closer to humanity than I have ever been, as people let me see them in their raw states, people I have just met, even. These are the gifts that the physiopoems I share don’t always show, the behind the scenes that bring so much light to my being. I’m happy to share this story with you all today so that you can have a glimpse of what it is like to be a physiopoet.

Kidnapping the Psyche

You can’t be stolen
and forced to love yourself.
You have to do it alone.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

I post a lot of photos of women in relation to body issues, because I do think we get the brunt of society’s criticism and attention when it comes to the way we look. However, that does not mean that men do not also have to deal with body issues. They do. And it fucking sucks for them too. Let me tell you a little bit about Arzu (age 22), my courageous canvas for today’s post.

Originally, we started working together because he is a fantastic, creative, and bold photographer. He has taken photos for Skin on Sundays and we will continue to work together, which I am always excited about. Eventually, he told me he wanted to be in a photo because he wanted to find a way to feel more comfortable with his body and he thought this would be a good avenue. I’m so happy he reached out to me to do it. He didn’t want his face to be in the photo because of the anxiety he deals with in showing his body, so I had to figure out a way to do that and still create something powerful. I wanted to use his episode to really convey the emotions behind the struggle he deals with accepting and loving his body the way it is, to address the fact that many men have body issues too.

The fact that he volunteered to do this, to step wayyy outside his comfort zone into the public eye in order to expand the boundaries of his comfort zone is a brave and awesome act. All the love you give to this post today, while it may just be a small act, will help to show Arzu and others who struggle with body issues that they are beautiful and worthy of love just as anyone. You don’t have to be skinny to be beautiful. The perfect body is the one you are happy inside of.

 

Body Languages

Please
don’t wish away
the moon eyes (what are
moon eyes?)
being all coast or
all cliff, the strange
animal selves
the broken yellow dawn
and prophetic malaise.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

It’s not just the way the bodies in Hillary’s photos are set and captured, but the way those bodies express a profound oneness with the scene they are positioned in, the earthy colors that decorate the playful and calm energy exuded from people she captures. I remember when I was getting my master’s degree (in poetry), my thesis advisor often said that if we write enough, our voice will emerge and become recognize-able kind of like a stamp on the writing. When I see Hillary’s work, her stamp is there in color tones and in spiritual tones as the bodies she captures make shapes in the world of her photos whether she’s doing self-photography or shooting others. It’s like Hillary’s own midsummer night’s dream is coming to life. Thank you @scrappyradish for sharing your beautiful gift with the world, and for working with me to make this collaboration come to life. This Scrappy Sundays collab was truly a dream.

++ Support scrappyradish here.

Aria’s Oratorio

Your broken pieces
are part
of what sets
you free.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

An oratorio has denotations of religion, but religion is often a state of mind, not something that is or needs to be made external. Aria’s spirit is grounded but with nothing weighing it down, a sign of an internal guiding force that she has come to trust. She embraces all of what has made her who she is and uses those things as a guiding force. Especially as a woman of color without the natural privilege of safety and support from society lifting her up, it’s a true gift that she has. What a feeling to trust yourself, who you are, to know how to read your own instincts, to ride the tides of life so freely. That kind of energy is contagious, and she is spreading it around with her very being. I felt it, and I am better for it. I hope a little bit of it carries through the pixels to your hearts too.

Myselves

In each of us
there is a garden
of the ones we used to be
the ones we used to love
the ones that left us.
All these flowers
grow from the remnants.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

What if there are no wrong decisions, just different ways to live a life? I was feeling very akin to Atenas in the way she chose to handle a heart issue, cherishing the last moments, letting her soul guide her, keep her where she was for a bit before she let completely go of a past life. I guess a lot of people go for the clean break, but some of us opt for something a bit messier. Maybe it’s easier for us to cope like that, holding something sacred for as long as we can possibly bear it, even if it also hurts at the same time. Or maybe we just have to see our endings out that way when we are so full of love. The time to start growing in a new direction always comes at its own time. Anyway, Atenas, I respect and honor the way of moving through life as you have been moving, and in many ways I am the same. That’s how your garden grows so beautifully.

Polvo de Alma

Tu alma tiene armarios
donde puedes encontrar
pedazos de ti mismo
que no sabías que tenías

__

Your soul has closets
where you can find
pieces of yourself
you never knew you had.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Dear Ale,

It’s dificil to remember a veces that el mundo that shaped you is not always confiable. La gente that tell you how to be don’t always know cómo ser. La voz that speaks desde adentro, what you feel, if you think it is beautiful, that’s how you know you should compartirlo.  Eso es el mejor mapa you will ever have. Checa los closets when you’re lost. You’ll never know que vas a encontrar inside.

Thank you for pushing me to think in Spanish, for being a fierce and beautiful young woman, for changing the world for the better with your attitude, kindness, grace, and being. Thank you for being open and hopeful and real. For sharing yourself with the world through many lenses, including my project. You are a gem.

Shadowban

Make me invisible
so I can walk carelessly
through the world
in whatever I please.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

When I first found out about the shadowbon placed on my Instagram account, I knew my posts wouldn’t get as much reaction due to lack of exposure. One of my fav things about this project is that it lifts people up. We all have beauty; you don’t have to look a certain way to feel beautiful. You don’t have to feel ashamed about feeling pretty or sexy or comfortable with your body no matter who you are. The shadowban by its very nature cuts into the engagement of my posts. Humans are creatures who crave acceptance. We want to be loved, to be seen as beautiful by others. I decided to post myself today for 2 reasons. The 1st is the most important; I don’t want any of my canvases to feel the effects of the shadowban. I want their physiopoetry to be seen as much as possible so that they can feel the love coming to them from the world, often by people who don’t even know them. Posting their episode during the shadowban means that their post will be less seen, and I won’t risk them feeling less accepted and less love because of those effects. The 2nd reason: I want to address this issue of censorship. I know I have to play by IG’s censoring rules. It’s just crazy to me that something so clearly art, so clearly trying to express something valuable, would face the wrath of a platform meant to connect people. But I get it, their platform, their rules. Butts are ok as long as any underwearish cloth is present, no matter how small (not sure what that changes, but ok, if you say so). Also in today’s physiopoem is the awareness that the shadowban is an attempt to make me invisible. Yet with invisibility comes freedom. If I were invisible, I could truly walk around in whatever I want, and I wouldn’t have to worry about judgment or safety or anything. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to go out into the streets of Mexico City so, so scantily clad to communicate this message, but it was worth it, as this is an issue that needs to be addressed over and over until something changes.

Reflect

Tell
me
about
the
origin
of
your
chaos.
Mine
begins
with
fire.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

If passion is your strength, if you feel a drive toward the things you want with the fervor of fire inside you, perhaps there is a chance you can relate to the equal fire that occurs in your temper. Snap. Like when lightning hits a tree and a branch the size of a house falls. Like a hiss from a mouth, or rather, from a mind. We can learn to control it if we try really hard. We can be passionate and peaceful. We can give others the benefit of the doubt. We can use our fire to make light rather than burn down a forest. It’s up to us. Salma, I wrote this poem for you because I see it in you. I also know exactly how this feels. I’m sure others do too. We just have to figure out how to use it best. ++ This photo was taken on a peak overlooking Salzburg, Austria, where Salma currently resides. She is originally from Mexico City.

Fire and Light

Oh the unspeakable
sadness
once spoken
turned into a flame

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

This is 31-year-old Betsy from Ohio with the pale skin and the radiant smile. You can’t tell this just in one glance, or who am I to say, maybe you can, but Betsy had ran away from a darkness that will likely never leave her despite the physical distance. She now lives in Vienna, Austria where the heartbreaking abuse she endured has been given a chance to heal. Sometimes piety turns corrupt and bankrupts the soul instead of filling it with love. When that happens, a person who has their own light inside, a light that comes directly from the source, finds a path away from the corruption. Betsy’s story is not mine to tell for her, but know that she was being poisoned and she escaped. She doesn’t let the darkness in her history envenom her soul. Instead she treats it as a gift that has shaped her into the beautiful being that she now is and will continue becoming. Betsy also co-founded a wonderful group called Women of Vienna that is a resource for pretty much any kind of need a woman could have in Vienna, something many of us wish we had in our own cities.

I took this photo in Vienna, Austria in June, 2018.

El True Origen de Fuego

The first fire
comenzó
desde adentro.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

++ (español) ++ El primer fuego comenzó desde adentro.

++ (english) ++

The first fire began on the inside.

All women are warriors for something, whether they like it or not. It is our story to fight, not because we want to, but because we need to. That is how it goes when society makes you of lower status just because of your gender. What we fight for is all the same and is all slightly different as well. Lorenza (28, Mexico City) is beautiful and intelligent and warm and confident. Her confidence, like most women, did not come from the universe like a gift however. It came after a fight. A fight against society constantly telling us we have to be thinner and taller and then when we’re thinner and taller, that we’re too thin, we’re too tall. We need to be shorter. We need to have more curves. We need to fit into someone’s hand like a flower, beautiful and crushable. Lorenza is curvy and healthy, inside and out, and full of love for herself like she should be. And let me just say, it’s not fucking easy to believe you are beautiful, to know it, when the world is telling you that your body should be something else. It’s so hard to truly believe that beauty starts on the inside, but it really does. That’s where our soul is, our passion, our fire. What makes us who we are is who we are adentro (inside). When we love that person, it shows. And whatever our physical makeup happens to be, whether it is what society tells us we should look like or not, that person inside will shine through. Confidence helps other people to see our internal beauty. Be the moon in your own sky, the one that shines down like a flashlight on the sea within you. Cut the string that ties you to what society tells you to look like, and root yourself in feeling comfortable in your own skin with who you are. Other people will love you for that person. That is what they will love about you most. You will radiate with that beauty from all angles. Like Lorenza.

++ photography by the amazing man behind the curtain, Eder CZ.

Mouths

Have you felt
the river exit your body
after a long storm?

Have you noticed
the mouth
where the water
drains away
touch you like
the mouth
of a dangerous lover.

These pieces of you
they don’t need to be
destroyed, by the way.

They can end
without having to die.

Sunday,

Filed Under: Uncategorized

 

This is my little sister, Alison (age 31, Louisville, Kentucky, USA). She just had her heart ripped out suddenly and unexpectedly. It was an emotional slaughterhouse, and oh how the sadness weighs like a dying whale on the beach. Even if the exorcism of this love from her life was likely a good thing based on the cruel way she has been treated, a way that no one deserves to be treated regardless of anything, that does not make the feelings disappear nor the healing any faster or easier. I wrote this poem for her because I feel its truth in my blood, and it might make the process of moving on less burdensome to remember that each one of us takes our experiences individually, even ones that were shared. We are the owner of our histories, our thoughts, our memories. No matter what happens, what we take from each of our experiences is ours alone. It doesn’t matter what anyone else takes. It doesn’t matter how anyone else feels. Each soul is often altered over and over by love, and little sister, try not to worry about how he feels, how his soul has been altered. His life is not your concern anymore, and for good reason. What matters is what you take away. Some of the things are beautiful; some of them are ugly. This is the shape of love sometimes, and I hope you still think it’s worth it, because when it comes again, there will be a world of new experiences waiting to have you.

I think Kevin Sampsell said it best: “Love is fluid, I think. It doesn’t follow timelines. Once it starts, it doesn’t end or anything. I mean, it might stop growing but maybe it just buries itself inside of you when a relationship ends. So, like, you can dig it up agin if you want to. All of those exes contributed in different ways to make me who I am now. Same with you.”