I blend writing and art with ritual and healing

Writing

Writing has long been my love and primary medium, ranging from microfiction to lyrical essay. In 2005, I joined Portland-based Northwest Women’s Journal as a columnist for their monthly publication. I named it Migrations and used it to explore themes of contemplation and the personal journey. My photo (a very unflattering one) was part of the byline. One day at the grocery store, a young woman tapped me on the shoulder, and exclaimed, “oh my god, you’re the nature writer!” I turned and simply said “Oh shit” (I’ve always wished I could apologize to her; guess I was caught off guard). Later I thought, what’s a nature writer? Not too long after, same grocery store, another line, a different woman, tap, tap, “I love your columns of spiritual writing.” I was equally flabbergasted and inappropriate and later thought, what is spiritual writing? Funny enough, those two taught me about myself and my writing. With that said, my desire is to create, perform, ritualize, and write whatever arrives, opening so much space that I don’t have to check boxes, stick to the confines of the squares. I like to stay fluid, be surprised, be in awe.

I’m a Wet Mountain Valley (Dorothy Allison) and Tin House (Aimee Bender) alum currently working on a ritual guidebook, and a memoir about uterine fibroids and lady parts politics. I was chosen as a 2023 finalist for the Barbara Deming Memorial Fund and awarded a 2024 residency at Hypatia-in-the-Woods.

Nonfiction:

"It's the Land That Wants You," in print issue of Zone 3

“Migrations,” Northwest Women’s Journal, monthly column (2005-2007), print only

'“No Apology Necessary,” Off Our Backs, print only

Fiction:

"That Girl" in 100 Word Story, click here to read.

"Everything" in 5x5 literary magazine, click here to read.

About Me

I live in the Pacific Northwest and I have brown eyes that some say turn hazel. I have a graduate degree in women’s studies and have had two careers paralleling my creative and healing work, one in violence reduction, intervention, and trauma, and the other in corporate sustainability management and consulting. I view my professional and creative work as service to myself, others, and the planet, and continue to explore these early themes of ecology, equity, and identity.

Books I love...reading now or recently: Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver, Diary of a Misfit by Casey Parks, Sleeping With Cats by Marge Piercy, Ordinary Notes by Christina Sharpe, Stay True by Hua Hsu, Time is a Mother by Ocean Vuong, Good Talk by Mira Jacobs, Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner, The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris, Woolgathering by Patti Smith, The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki, An American Sunrise by Joy Harjo, Animal by Lisa Taddeo, Group by Christie Tate, Citizen by Claudia Rankine, Belonging by Nora Krug, Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk, When Death Takes Something from You Give it Back by Naja Marie Aidt, Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald, The Book of Delights by Ross Gay, Paper Concert by Amy Wright, An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken. And some older favorites: The Vegetarian by Han Kang, We the Animals by Justin Torres, Bluets by Maggie Nelson, Tinkers by Paul Harding, My Antonia by Willa Cather, The Twelve Tribes of Hattie by Ayana Mathis, Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant by Roz Chast, M Train by Patti Smith, The Chronology of Water by Lidia Yuknavitch, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, What Comes Next and How to Like It by Abigail Thomas, When We Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams, Lit by Mary Karr, Bettyville by George Hodgman, Waiting by Ha Jin, The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, Red Dust by Ma Jian, Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers.

Ritual

I created my first ritual as a child (I didn’t call it that; I was just making things up) and it started to gain steam in my adult years, launching me in a whole different direction and focus. Rituals for releasing grief, manifesting desires, and marking transitions were often my go-to. But then I had an experience which took it to a new level for me. When, frightened one night, I called out for the first time to my ancestors for help, a spiritual portal opened to me, and became the start of a blooming ritual and healing practice.

I create ritual from intuition rather than tradition, and I am guided by my inner wisdom, ancestors, and other allies. But before all of this, I didn’t know how to take my rituals deeper (I mostly burned stuff and buried the ashes, repeatedly), and I was intimidated by the idea of group ceremony. So, after years of muddling through and learning from the experience, I wrote the guidebook I had been trying to find. I can’t wait to share it with you.

Healing

I’ve long been working on my own healthy balance and practices, and that journey has taken me through the spectrum of western and holistic medicine, and every kind of healer imaginable. I learned a lot. I healed a lot. I also finally embraced my own healing and channeling abilities. Eventually Reiki called me and then meditation, other modalities of energy and bodywork, and the tug toward my own professional training.

Ten years ago, I started ZenShi, a private practice, and I absolutely love it. I feel in the groove, revitalized, and happy when I’m helping others. I offer Channeled readings, Reiki, and EFT Tapping, and I also periodically offer workshops and courses. If you’d like to learn more, work together, or try a free consult, hop over to zenshiwellness.com.

Performance

After my marriage fell apart, I wanted a way to express two things: 1) my transformation from grief to rebirth, and 2) the weird way in which once sacred objects can instantly lose their gravity. My wedding dress became the language through which to illustrate both, in the three-act play I wrote and produced called Alter. This is where my vision for combining ceremony and art emerged, and once conceived, I needed to figure out a way to perform the piece.

I cofounded Portland’s defunct experimental arts collective, The Understory, along with Leah Bobalova and Ruth Waddy, and we collaborated with and included many others, creating six multimedia shows in two years. Following, I created solo performance art, including Informare, a piece exploring identity and the ways in which we don’t fit the forms we fill out.

The reason I love performance art is because it captures the temporary, transient, and shifting nature of reality, mirroring and also troubling our lived experiences. Street art especially serves to interrupt the ordinary and expected, and challenges the elitism of art spaces. Each of my performance pieces with The Understory and solo have been one-off, never to occur again, requiring genuine presence and immersion. I am drawn to create live performance art as collaborative engagement, allowing performance, artist, and audience to create something from a shared moment. I continue to explore themes of identity and existence on the personal, public, and ancient levels, melding narrative, oral storytelling, visual art, and ritual.