​
​

There are these moments of glorious inspiration when it’s not that we are creating something of our own design,

but the Universe is working through us to bring its own creation into existence.

​

​

I envision our creative source to be some form of glorious protozoic mess. Somewhere between a smashed lava lamp, a sunrise, and the tenacious bacterial reproduction that insists its existence within our bath towels. ​
​

My Sewing Studio floor resembles all three . ​
​

In my role as a movement teacher, I'm organized. I categorize my thoughts, clearly share my strategy, and provide detailed progressions for my students. But as an artist, those lines dissolve completely. When I'm creating, the process becomes a sacred space where materials assemble beneath my hands through a force beyond my control. During this immersion, emotions that were trapped in my body are able to move through, and the original agitation is washed away, revealing an inner layer of clarity.

​

I don’t know exactly how this sacred process happens, but I know that this experience is shared. The reason that Art and Movement are equated with passion, with the divine, and more practically, used as therapy. ​
​

In the past 5 years, I've transitioned from equally splitting my professional life between sewing and teaching movement. While editing my videos and the immersion into creative writing that my newsletters allow me has largely filled my artistic needs, every so often, I'm called back to the sewing machine, and magic happens.

​

This week, that magic manifested in a special way. My Dad has a big birthday today. One of those milestone birthdays where no arbitrary gift would do. Inspired by the First Nations printed quilting fabric he'd given me for Christmas, I hit the cutting table and spent an evening creating the bedcover of his dreams. The process was everything you could imagine, and the next morning, I woke up feeling 20 years younger.

​

It’s amazing what creativity can do for your soul.

​

Some people make quilts according to a strict formula. Mesmerizing geometric patterns, perfectly organized and hand stitched. Hundreds of hours in the making. Others ( like me) approach the process more organically, like the stonemason constructing a fireplace out of randomly sized slabs, somehow creating order out of absolute chaos.
​

One could easily say this applies to life as well. We can try to keep it organized, structured and categorized, or we can allow it to build and bloom as it sees fit, and do what we can to nurture the process. These examples are not absolutes, it’s a spectrum. We all fit somewhere along the line. Not all of the seams match, sometimes a decision is a guess, and more often than not, our mistakes become the spicy accents that define the entire narrative.

​

This philosophy of embracing both structure and chaos, in movement and in art, is what I aim to share with my students.

This week, I have two videos for you that embody this idea: the quilt I made for my Dad's birthday (Happy Birthday, Bui, if you're reading it here first!) and a beautiful alignment sequence for your spine, ( using a foam roller and a yoga block) that will open your heart, shoulders, and neck while strengthening your hips, abdominals, and legs.

​

​

​

​
​

I'm also thrilled to announce that I've scheduled some upcoming classes: a 2-hour Online Gyrotonic Intensive on May 18 (Progression 7 on the Ultima XS) and a 4-Class Series on the LifePro, "Good Vibes for All," from July 8-11. I hope you'll share this joy of movement with me.

​

This week, I encourage you to unleash your creative force, whether through writing, dancing, writhing, or painting pictures in the sand. Give the Universe a chance to move through you and take the dusty version of yourself out with it.

​
​

Happy Sunday, Reader

​
​

Domini Anne

​
​

​
​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​