Wandering Arts Collective, highlights each contributors agency and restlessness as we partake in all the opportunities available for ones as magnificent as us.
If my language could speak the inspiring
I’d declare war to the opposing, inflicting
Way people treat one another
And vanish cruelty amongst lovers.
Old people. Elders. Senior citizens. Some are the grumpiest people you’ll ever talk to, or the sweetest one you know. Some may be full of stories and legends, while others pass sadly forgotten. Some are humble, while others hold judgment, and some are spiteful when others are kind.
During my most recent travels in Nov. '14 I was lucky enough to see some truly extraordinary things, experience some blissful moments. From the waves of St. Petersburg through the coast lines of the Atlantic, the corn along upstate NY and the rolling hills in my home state I bonded to the sceneries around me.
There are more reoccurring events than not where I feel I am a small dot in this world. I am both significant and insignificant in various moments throughout my life. My presence and voice holds freedom and power, as does all that surrounds me. Nature is ever-changing and fluid around me.
Since teaching yoga this semester, I have learned that yoga is a very intimate experience, for the yogi's on their mat, the teacher, it is intimate to bystanders and people walking by. The second realization reached is my dire need for self expression and finding my voice. There has been many times, in which I wanted to convey something occurring in my life right now. This blockage of self expression, or the ability of being able to find the right words at the right time has taken its toll on me.
