❀ Welcome! I am an artist AND a pelvic steam therapist / folk herbalist. I work with paint to make paintings, and plants to make plant medicine. I offer pelvic steaming support and advanced steam plans via a consultation process. These creative activities complement each other really well. Both plant medicine practices and making art are healing to my body and spirit. Both “tend the root” of all creativity, a connection between the pelvic organs, tissues, energies, and the heart organ and psyche. I occasionally offer words exploring these creative intentions in the journal space below. ❀
Folkways
I grow Santolina just for the smell, so I can brush by and release the fragrance and smell it with my ancestral nose, stirring something familiar. It makes me feel a stirring of some sort, a ‘powerful tugging’ connecting me to a past I’ll never know. Some details might arrive in a dream, or maybe they won’t…but the feeling is so strong I must have lived with this plant before!
Different Types Of Grief
Grief is complex yet simple. It’s the thing that no one wants to talk about because it’s triggering, because it doesn’t feel good. Also, In this way it defies branding and capitalist consumerism (except Hallmark’s attempts).
I’ve learned from experience, and maybe you have too, that there are different types of grief. I separate them into three categories to better understand and work on moving through them.
Genderqueer and Menstruating
The purpose of this blog post is to talk about how steaming and good period care are healing my period and my relationship to my experience of gender. After I discuss this I will share my personal story with you…
Steamy Story (personal)
Here is the handmade throne (read:pelvic steaming altar) where I sit, knees open wide allowing full access to the portal of my creative center. It wasn’t always this way. When I first came to pelvic steaming I was desperate for a way to explore and resolve all the things that felt wrong…
MULLEIN - ALLY FROM THE PLANT REALM
When I was a newborn I stopped eating and the doctors couldn't figure out why. I stopped thriving and my mother became desperate and so took me to a miracle church on a mountain top where crutches covered the walls…