08
WELCOME TO BE HERE NOW

A monthly newsletter where I share creative practices and processes. 




           

 Welcome To Be Here Now is a monthly newsletter where I’ll be sharing practices and processes. Many of the things I often keep to myself (and the depths of my archive), waiting for the right moment or to have enough time to polish them. I’ll be focusing on ditching my perfectionism and connect with those who connect with what I do.

There will be 12 newsletters, released every full moon of 2022.
Why every full moon? As reminder to stay connected. Also, the full moon is a time for culmination and fruition, surrender and release.




WHAT
Monthly newsletter
Practices
Self Initiated

WHEN
2022



︎

JANUARY - FEBRUARY
40 days of drawing

I started the year with 40 days of drawing. Just like morning pages, the practice consists in drawing 3 (A5) pages first thing in the morning for 40 days. I created a few prompts which allow me to be consistent, yet present every morning. The sense of continuity of the practice is something really worth trying. It keeps me focus, and it helps me to create resilience and flexibility in my creative practice overall.

FULL PROJECT HERE ︎
all 120 drawings


a sample of daily drawings








︎

MARCH
Mundane Magic

An on-going series of open ︎︎ meditations

As reminder to pause
As a reminder of simple beauty - all around
Staring at what simply happens in front of us.
In depth.
Until hypnotized,
Nothing and Everything.


FULL PROJECT HERE ︎


Contemplation is underrated, but in my opinion it is an art form and a practice.
As well finding beauty in the mundane. Mundane Magic is an on-going series
focused on the practice of contemplation.

Regardless of how you might, or might not connect with it I wish
they remind you, to tune in with your own sense of contemplation to find
moments of magic for yourself in these uneasy and unpredictable times.











︎

APRIL
STONE SKIN
WIP photo series.

This is a work in progress series. The images were captured while staying in Lanzarote over 3 weeks earlier this year.

Partly captured in an exercise of contemplation. Partly captured in an exercise of portraiture of nature, stones and myself (within this environment). Lanzarote brought my imagination to an utopian world. Warm and wild, dry and empty. There are almost no trees, almost no agriculture crops. Very few people. There are volcanos, and lava stones everywhere. I see them as sculptures, and in this world art can be experienced with all our senses, we can smell it and touch it. There are so many stones that I now connect to them as living organisms. I wonder if they can feel, breath, think? They must, I believe. Can they shape-shift into another body, being? And over time, as I walk over them, can we transfer our bodily qualities into one another? As I sit and lie endless hours on them, I get their heat, even the marks of their shapes on my body. What do they get from me, I wonder? Can our bodies merge into something new? What would that look like? A new skin, stone skin.




[In the Past] My body carried stones inside for some years, many years ago. The repercussions of that invasion were rather traumatic, they stayed locked in my cognitive memory till not too long ago, and weight deep in my physical body for way too long.

[In the present] Perhaps it is time to befriend those stories and let my body be, free of fear. T.B.C.



FULL PROJECT HERE ︎









︎

MAY
THE IN BETWEEN
Reflection + Website release

The In Between. A place I had struggled with in the past. In between interests, in between jobs, in between roles and skills... At times, The In Between was addressed to me as a place that is not professional or serious enough to be considered. With that, I felt confronted and often lost, in a space that is not black or white. But over time, I made peace with external opinions and realised that The In Between is actually the place that I feel most identified and comfortable with.

That's what is at the core of this new website.  









︎

JUNE
VOYAGER WORKSHOP

In early June I had an experience that boosted my energy and made me reflect on the importance of collective practice.  In the beginning of the month, I participated in a creative jam session organised by voyager.xyz. Voyager is a creator DAO for art, music and media. They focus on building a community based on resonance and creative practices.

This jam aimed to gather people (friends and friends of friends) who have a regular creative practice in different mediums. Think, poets, creative technologists, illustrators, coders, designers, film makers, XR, visual and multidisciplinary artists. The sessions were structured around several creative exercises, both individual and collective. The focus was in the processes and the conversations around it. The result will be published in what will be Voyager's first digital Zine. (I'll make sure to share it once is launched and I can assure you the result is already looking pretty incredible!)

We were all invited to be present and participate in the exercises with an open mind.
There were time constrains, even some technical ones, but the main prompt was stay connected throughout, with your practice and with your partners. The whole experience was truly inspiring! Seeing so many talented people coming together, often leaving their comfort zones and egos behind, for the sake of practicing.

Stepping into new territories and embracing unknown challenges in this creative process. It felt like most of us managed to communicate with each other fairly smoothly, even though we might all talk different languages or idioms. 

As it started, I saw many surprised and even doubtful faces. As the sessions proceeded
I saw commitment and enthusiasm, and as we left, I saw big smiles and bunch of people feeling equally inspired by what they had experienced in those few hours.

To conclude, I realise that collectively we spend too much time around our own thoughts and ideas, practices and processes, but there is something really powerful when we come together willing to participate in something bigger than our own little universes. There's something profound and ritualistic about it that trigger my curiosity and makes
me want to gather in practice more often.