textile design, silk jersey, 1985
I lived in the seedy part of Boston’s South End in the 80’s creating hand-painted textiles for men’s and women’s wear.

I was surrounded by people eager to shock, startle and roar their way through life by separating themselves out from the masses in some way and finding a smidgeon of identity in this way.

Oh my goodness… I felt so lost and uncool.

I came to work each day and built an energetic bubble around myself and communed with color and brushes, dyes and fabric.

I have spent my life trying to find an identity that felt like natural me. It has been years and years of trying. I had no idea how to approach the quest for authenticity other than ‘trying’ to get there.

No longer do I have the energy for TRYING which is a true gift in illness. I have had the good fortune to segue into pockets of BEING and care less and less about coolness.

Because horizons and shadows are really pretty uninteresting to me, being more intrigued by the present as I am- (periodically, mind you….)

There is space enough to register authenticity when I meet it.

These photographs came to me yesterday:

To me, these images represent the treasure we all are beneath any posturing or pretense.

I look and experience only beauty.

Yes, his body probably doesn’t look like yours.

Can you feel him there?

See his light and reverence for the gift of life?


I can safely say you will likely not forget what/who you saw; GUIDO GABRIELLI is the publisher of Italian YOGA JOURNAL.

I can say that because when truth is put on the table, everyone knows.

And a mysterious silence rolls in… authenticity is here..

At last.

Authenticity is here.


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