009—Women Communing
I’m delayed in posting, I’m sorry! I was traveling for two weeks in California for work and visiting friends. And then, upon my return to Miami, I promptly fell terribly ill with the worst food poisoning I think I’ve ever had. And that’s saying something, considering I’ve had food poisoning a whopping five (!) times in my life. I will spare you the details, but they were all animal-product related. Perhaps this is my sign to finally steer my diet even more towards plant-based.
Even now, a week after returning to Miami, as I sit on my couch writing this looking out the window at the summer thunderstorm flashing bright and rumbling deep and loud, I’m still processing my time in California. It’s 3,000 miles away but now feels triple, quadruple, quintuple that distance as I settle back into quotidian life here in Miami. Especially with heat so wet and heavy you can quite literally gulp the air, it’s so thick. No room in this tightly packed humidity to soak up anything, let alone the gallons of sweat you’ve just perspired. And yet each day you can see the full water cycle in miniature—from evaporation to condensation and cloud formation to precipitation and downpours of heavy globs of rain.
I spent a week at Jackrabbit Studios, affectionately called Jackie—taking all the photos, immersing in all the immersions, laughing and creating with new and old friends, and feeling all the feels. Just as with potent pain, sometimes it takes a moment to fully grasp an equally potent feeling of joy, of oneness, of limitlessness.
On my last morning at Jackie, I sat at a white metal patio table in the shade beneath mature pinyon pine trees near the casita. I heard an owl hoot, bugs zapping, lots of beautiful birdsong, and the wind whip and roll through the desert valley under a bright blue cloudless sky. It was hot—June in the high desert is not to be underestimated—but still with a light breeze. It’s a dry heat with air so thin it has plenty of space to immediately evaporate any sweat. I sat there reflecting on my week at Jackie and the veritable vortex that it is, a portal of strong, sturdy feminine energy.
Over the week I spent at Jackie, we had: sunset rooftop picnics, breathwork exercises, journaling sessions, yoga, Pilates, Qi Gong, a sourdough breadmaking class (and lots of bread baking), bar hopping to many a funky high desert spot, an orchid greenhouse tour, shopping in town, summer solstice celebrations at a hot springs resort, sound healing at The Integratron, painting, photo and video shooting, foraging and smudge stick making, hiking, laughing, creating, imagining, and lots of sunset-wowing and night sky stargazing. The love, unity, and creativity flowing within, between, and around us was so thick you’d need a heavily serrated knife just to cut through the tough, golden crunchy crust to take a peek at the soft, fluffy, bouncy, tangy eternal inside that is wild and free feminine creative energy.
I absolutely want to point out that this merging of beautiful, smart, uber-creative, hardworking, strong, powerful, hilarious women was orchestrated by the linchpin of all linchpins, the supernatural spritely goddess that is Jen Azlant, the proprietor stewardess of Jackrabbit Studios. She knew, she just knew, this divinely timed gathering of gals would fit, would nestle into each other like long-lost soul sisters. My gratitude for Jen, and for Erin, Caroline and Taline is unending. I miss them all already. They are each doing the thing, their thing, taking part in our collective goddess creative journey that is living life fully saturated on this planet.
After a day of baking five loaves of sourdough bread (LOL), touring the indelible A-Z West Institute, and doing some hiking in Joshua Tree National Park—everyone already gone and back to their own life adventures—I left Landers and spent the next week visiting my friend Megan, her husband Sebastian and their new baby Luca in San Francisco.
I originally planned to go up to the Redwoods for a couple of nights but changed my mind once I got to Megan’s. The last time I was in the Redwoods and the Sequoias, during my 2018 six-month cross-country road trip, I told myself that the next time I visited these parks I wanted to go not alone. On that road trip, by month three or four, I strongly felt a wanting—a needing—to experience the remarkable beauty of all that I saw with a loved one. To share the experience not with the strangers you see on the trail and politely nod or say hello to, but with someone special.
And these California parks, specifically, I knew I’d come back to them at some point, that I’d wait until the time was right to go with a friend or relative or partner. These redwood and sequoia trees hold a very special place in my heart. When I was a little girl, maybe eight or nine, I had a dream that felt more like a memory. I stood in a small clearing in a forest, the earth beneath my feet spongy and bouncy but not too wet, just right. The forest was one of massive trees. At that age, I had never seen redwoods or sequoias in my waking life—I don’t think I had ever even been to a forest before, being from Miami—so I didn’t know what these trees were called. But they were the biggest trees I’d ever seen, and there was a beautiful golden sunlight streaming in through the trees ahead and above me, the air so still I could see flecks of dust in the beams of light.
Earlier this year, I started remembering that dream-memory a lot, so I originally planned to road trip to both Sequoia National Park and Redwood National Park during my trip to California. But, as it got closer, this didn’t feel like the right time and the planning fell through. Instead, I got to spend quality time (my love language!) with my best friend Megan and baby Luca, who I don’t get to see very often and who grows by the second.
In San Francisco, we had slow mornings, ate sourdough bread for days, took long walks, had a picnic that was cut short by the icy bursts of wind coming off the Bay (LOL, hiya to you, too, June Gloom). We had bath time for baby Luca (he’s such a cutie Pisces water baby), binged lots of TV, went to the fantastic Ansel Adams In Our Time exhibit at the DeYoung Museum, went to a kiddie music class (the absolute cutest, and, interestingly, all the babies and toddlers were instinctively attracted to the large drum when it appeared).
We enjoyed ice cream and pastries and lots of yummy food, went on a hike to Marshall Beach with a view of nearby Baker’s Beach, went to Sausalito, and (dun-dun-dun) went to Muir Woods National Monument. Not only did I get to see my beloved redwoods—replete with streams of sunlight in a late afternoon soft glow—but I got to be there for Luca’s first NPS visit and see his face struck with awe as he gazed up, up, up and witnessed for the first time these beautiful massive trees standing hundreds of feet tall.
Growing from 19/20-year-olds to now 34/35-year-olds and watching Megan in her full mamahood, it’s inspiring and humbling. It’s one thing to ask an elder for advice, and quite another to learn from a peer. Someone just like me right now is doing it, doing the mama thing. She’s really doing it, doing the ultimate creative thing. It’s scary and hard but the best thing in the world, she says, and can’t imagine life without him now. I’m also so impressed with how gentle and patient she is with him, even at his fussiest, and how she’s learned who he is, why he’s crying when he is, what he likes and doesn’t like. Everyday I’m in awe of her. I’m so curious and learning so much from her. And I 1000% give props to her husband and my friend Sebastian who is such a great partner and dad. They’re truly a team and that’s what works best, in my opinion. A true collaborative creative partnership, day by day learning and adapting to this wild thing called raising a human. The creative act of birthing and raising a child. Wow. Creating and helping shape a human person to survive and thrive on planet Earth: to be loving and kind and compassionate and considerate and understanding, and to stoke and share his own inner light with the world.
There’s a special magic that happens when women are in communion with one another. An even specialer (specialer? Yep, specialer) magic when there’s an interplay between them and their communion with nature, with art, with unbounded creativity and healing, made even more boundless by the expansiveness of the desert, or walks through misty, sun-sliced forests.
It’s unequivocally mighty feminine energy, the essence that is true feminine power: subtle yet filled with emotion, strong yet soft and fluid, flowing virtuously and infinitely like the cycle from earth to air to water. <3
These past few weeks I’ve been:
Reading: The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin, as recommended by my aunt Angie. Such a great read so far! He seems like a really cool dude and exudes wisdom and presence. I also started and finished reading Attached by Amir Levine and Rachel S. F. Heller. So good.
And these articles:
The Places Most Affected by Remote Workers’ Moves Around the Country from The New York Times
The Bryan Cranston Method from GQ
Lost Illusions: The Untold Story of the Hit Show’s Poisonous Culture from Vanity Fair
Tracing the “Tasty” History of Andy Warhol Through His Rarest Photographs from AnOther
What is Slow Living? from The Good Trade
Idyllic Photos From Joseph Szabo’s Archive of American Teen Life from AnOther
New York's Coolest Surf Club Wants You to “Swim Smart and Stay Safe” from Hypebeast
A Texas man reported missing as a teen in 2015 was only missing for 1 day, police say from AP News
This story gets wilder and wilder.
How a 14-Minute Video on Posture Changed My Life from The New York Times Magazine
Please go ahead and watch the video the author references (linked towards the end of the article). It’s one of those videos you can’t help but watch the full thing and then wonder what the heck did you just watch. Also, though the video didn’t change my life as it did for the author, what intrigued me most was thinking of the YouTube ASMR rabbit hole she must have gone down to find this video, and I love me some rabbit holes (e.g., ‘time slips’ on Reddit threads).
Recent events that indicate Earth’s climate has entered uncharted territory from AP News
Dystopian Fiction Becomes Reality in France from The Atlantic
‘Wherever I Am, I Am Always Birding’ from The New York Times
Includes a little how-to for drawing birds! So cute. Going to try this.
Writing: Morning pages! And my affirmations. And my gratitude list.
Photographing/Photo Editing: Lotssss of great photos from Jackrabbit Studios, the high desert, Joshua Tree, San Francisco, Marshall Beach, Muir Woods—swoon! Here are some of the highlights.
Watching: Pitch Perfect 2 with my family over the Father’s Day Weekend. I binged all of The White Lotusand The Bear with my friend Megan. I’m watching Ted Lasso with my family (on episode 3 or 4). And I watched the first episode of The Amazing Race season 5, and let me tell you, the things these contestants say, they’d likely be cancelled in the span of one 24-hour IG story, ha! (E.g., A pair of brothers from Texas saying “Oh they got women driving the car” (!) and an ‘on-again-off-again couple’ where the girlfriend flat-out called her boyfriend dumb and says, with a devilish smile, she just likes controlling him.) It was nice to see how far we’ve come, and funny to be reminded of how low the bar is. I also saw Asteroid City in theaters. Wes Anderson is my favorite director. The dialogue, colors, visuals, details, cinematography, and dry humor are on point, per Anderson.
Listening to: I’ve been listening to Wim Hof’s breathing exercises video (almost) daily this week. I’ve also been listening to some old school 90s hip hop and R&B and to my friend Caroline’s beautiful Spotify playlist Soften. And my That Certain Chill playlist and Hans Zimmer playlist on Spotify, plus to the super vibey Oumou Sangaré and other Sahara music.
Xo,
Jessica♾️
I thoroughly enjoyed the photos with this piece, especially from the desert and Jackrabbit Studios. You really captured the essence of being there.