**taken from a few letters I wrote to friends. I usually write better (and much more honestly) when I think I’m talking to someone I love.**
I can’t possibly relate how much I loved Bali or how much I needed the trip or how grateful I am to start to see the light after six months of a crushing depression. In so many ways all the decisions I have made in life, all the ones I have lamented over in these past months, now seem to make sense. Every little decision, every sacrifice, every heartbreak, every minute of loneliness have all brought me here. For the first time in my life I am able to truly understand that it takes all the pain to create all the bliss. I’m sure I’ve said those words before, but never before have I truly understood them viscerally like I do now.
Bali is the deep Asian jungle and it’s as hot as a mother fucker. There wasn’t a moment of the day I wasn’t sweating and I loved it. This whole place seemed magical to me, and it’s no wonder it’s a special place in every heart that has been lucky enough to be there. It’s super religious and spiritual and bohemian and humid and lush and tropical and rainy and poor and brown and exciting and misty and green and gecko-y. The food is good, the light is nice, the sun is hot, the people are gorgeous, the babies are small, and everyone has really full lips and meatball brown eyes. Their faces light up when they smile, they seem generally relaxed and easy in spirit, and I can somehow make most of them laugh which is truly why I travel.
I was there to both vacation with my great friend, Flora Bowley and then photograph her painting and yoga workshop. She was the painter and her yoga teacher, Lisa Mae, was the yoga teacher. The workshop was AMAZING!!!! Twenty women attended from six countries, one cooler and more talented than the next. We started every day with two hours of yoga and then dropped into four hours of painting. I was allowed to participate so long as I also documented it with my camera. It was fun and transformational with a capital WTF.
I paid good money, albeit not that much, to see a Balinese healer. This guy was such a lecherous douche bag I started re-telling the story in my head almost immediately. It’s a very long story, but it ends with me topless on his bed, him spooning me from behind, and as he looked over my shoulder down my chest, he literally bounced my boobs up and down. Healed by a Balinese healer? check.
I met 20 new friends, had sweet little adventures, met some really nice guys who ended up to be real teachers to me, though they don’t know it. I’m in super friend love with Flora who is pulling me along on her success whether I like it or not.
Besides photographing Flora’s workshop I barely photographed while I was there. My heart was elsewhere, my apologies.
Here are a few things I saw with my camera. The other stuff can’t be photographed.
Enjoy these. Thank you for caring about me and my life. You let me follow my dreams and I’m extremely grateful for that.