It Takes Courage To Say YES.

Russian Ridge Open Space Preserve in La Honda, CA

Russian Ridge Open Space Preserve in La Honda, CA

It takes courage to say YES.

There comes a moment in your life when fear and dreams collide-
Most people choose to play it safe to never risk their pride.
But if you listen to that voice which calls from deep within,
You’ll find that you can walk with faith across the great divide.

It’s never going to go away, so it’s best to befriend your fear,
And step into the great unknown
And watch how doors appear.

Be wary of the ones who tell you that it can’t be done-
The way you write or paint or draw or sing or code for fun.
Keep putting in the daily work when no one else can see,
With time you’ll find that you’ll become who you were meant to be.

It begins with that first step as you say yes to something new-
Perhaps you don’t know where to start or exactly what to do.
But trust that life experience has prepared you for this time,
Bravely ascend the path ahead, and trust that you’ll be fine.

It takes courage to say YES.

Say YES.
— Julianne Kanzaki

Everything Is Blue Again Like Morning.

I’m swimming again. The first time in 15 months. No lane reservations or 35-minute time limits. There is an immense freedom and comfort in diving into the quietude of the womb-like water feeling weightless and free. Water has always been my home. In the past few weeks, I have stayed close to the ocean and it has reinvigorated my spirit, recharged my creativity, and restored my soul.

Here I came to the very edge
where nothing at all needs saying,
everything is absorbed through weather and the sea,
and the moon swam back,
its rays all silvered,
and time and again the darkness would be broken
by the crash of a wave,
and every day on the balcony of the sea,
wings open, fire is born,
and everything is blue again like morning.
— Pablo Neruda
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New original alcohol ink Kanzaki Cards are now available in my shop!

New original alcohol ink Kanzaki Cards are now available in my shop!

You Are the Medicine.

Sunrise from Pleasure Point, CA

Sunrise from Pleasure Point, CA

Last weekend’s Airstream camping adventure.

Last weekend’s Airstream camping adventure.

Scoping out the whales.

Scoping out the whales.

Morning pages. My favorite way to start the day.

Morning pages. My favorite way to start the day.

Heal yourself with the warmth of the sun and the light of the moon. With a deep inhale of ocean breeze. Heal yourself by putting pen to paper and filling up blank pages with your own words and poetry and stories you want to remember. Heal yourself with the crackling and heat of a campfire and let your worries dissolve into the darkness of the sky. Heal yourself with turmeric, chamomile, ginger, cacao, maca, reishi, lion’s mane. Ground your bare feet into the packed cool sand and dig your toes into the earth while the ocean waves wash over you. Feel the grounding cord of energy connect you to the earth’s depth. Stand in your power. Heal yourself by honoring your energetic boundaries and listening to your intuition. Dance, sing, laugh, create. Make love. Allow yourself to feel deep pleasure in every part of your life. Heal yourself with nourishing food, nurturing friendships, and never forget- you are the medicine.
— Julianne Kanzaki

Moving Through Grief: A Spoken Word Poem

On May 12, 2021, my mentor and meditation teacher passed away. It was unexpected, jarring, and shocking to hear the news and digest it. We met together every week for the past four years. When COVID hit, we gathered virtually every Monday evening at 8pm. He never once missed a meeting. He was the most consistent, reliable, knowledgeable, quirky, and generous human being I’d ever met. Throughout many of our sessions together, I remember thinking to myself, “This is the most seen I’ve ever felt by another person.” In February at the closing of one of our meetings he said, “You know, Julianne, there’s a lot of love here.” We both knew how special our friendship was.

The moment I found out he had passed away, I immediately messaged my friend who is a psychologist and specializes in grief and loss. “I just lost someone extremely close to me- perhaps this is the first time I’ve ever experienced losing someone that was such an important part of my life. Any resources would be greatly appreciated.”

She shared a TED Talk with me on the topic of grief- how it is not an event, it’s a process. Grief is not something we ‘get over,’ but rather it is something we move through and move with together.

This line became the seed of my poem.

Flooded with deep emotions and energy pulsing through my heart onto the page, this poem was born.

My mentor taught me that we can experience pain but we can also choose to transform it. Staying in the suffering does not serve us.

He shared his meditation practices and regularly wrote and sent his poems to me to read. He always inquired about the art I was working on and encouraged me to use my current challenges as conduits to create new forms of art. He effectively encouraged me to transmute and tranform pain into beauty. It felt fitting to use art and poetry to express my grief and love as a tribute to his life and his legacy. I am emerging from this time tender and transformed, hopeful and deeply grateful. May this poem encourage you to see the gifts in your grief, knowing that I am here too- moving with and moving through grief with you. There’s a lot of love here.

He taught me to see the world through a new lens- one that can use everything for good, for beauty. Here, snap pea leaves that I recognized could be the raw materials for a piece of art.

He taught me to see the world through a new lens- one that can use everything for good, for beauty. Here, snap pea leaves that I recognized could be the raw materials for a piece of art.

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Rules To Live By.

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Every day is a good day to follow Sister Corita’s rules. These have been particularly relevant to my recent creative projects where I’ve been experimenting, flirting on the edge of my comfort zone, and surprising myself in terrifying yet fulfilling new ways.

Dancing across disciplines of philosophy, coaching, art, nature, energy healing, nutrition, and poetry, I’ve learned it’s less about learning a particular subject matter. It’s more about learning about myself. Our interests and life preferences and passions change and fluctuate because we are fluid and changing human beings.

If we’re not changing, we’re dying.

Cheers to making art that is experimental and shatters old paradigms. Art that is courageous and generous. Cheers to following the rules. Cheers to breaking them all.

Accountabillabuddies.

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I would consider myself to be highly internally motivated when it comes to fitness since I recognize the benefits it has for my mood, energy levels, creativity, and mental health. What I didn’t expect from this April challenge was the added motivation and drive I’ve have on the days when I was tired or emotionally drained because I knew someone else was counting on me to show up and close my rings.

Whether it involves fitness, a creative project, writing a book, or completing a professional endeavor, it’s true- we are better together.

Illuminated.

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When all eyes are on you, you move and speak and work in a certain way. You conduct yourself with intention, pay attention to details, and behave in a manner that supports the type of person you want to be perceived as. In reality, you are always being watched and noticed. The way you answer the phone or sign emails. How you walk across the room. Your smile. Your handwriting. The tone of your voice. The books you read and the insights you share. How you dress. The art you make or the projects you work on. Everything you do illuminates your heart. Everything is a glimpse inside of who you are. Everything is a diary. You just weren’t aware that everyone was openly reading it.

Rainbow.

Dried calendula petals inspired today’s art.

Dried calendula petals inspired today’s art.

Usually when you win a goldfish at a carnival, it lasts four, maybe five days. Being jostled around in a plastic bag sealed with a tiny rubber band doesn’t set the stage for a long and healthy life. I won one of these goldfish when I was six. I named her Rainbow. She was the first pet who was all mine. I fed her fish flakes, regularly cleaned her bowl, bought her fresh aquarium plants with sea snails, and talked to her.

On the night of the huge October 1989 earthquake, I returned home from piano lessons, pushed past my dad and raced upstairs screaming, “How is Rainbow? Is she still alive?” My dad called after me, “What about your old man? Aren’t you concerned if I’m ok?” He still jokes about this today.

Rainbow lived for eight years. I loved her, knowing she beat the odds. Some friendships are similar. The ones formed randomly at a Meet Up, while cycling, or sitting next to at a coffee shop. The chances of making a lasting connection were as slim as a ping pong ball finding its way into a glass bowl. But those friendships miraculously beat the odds. They are tender and timeless. Which makes me love and cherish them even more.