Krissy's Blog
How Art Helps Us See the World (And Each Other)...
I was at a museum, sitting on a bench in front of this giant painting of a red square on a blue background. Just a red square. Nothing else. And...
How Art Helps Us See the World (And Each Other)...
I was at a museum, sitting on a bench in front of this giant painting of a red square on a blue background. Just a red square. Nothing else. And...
Kali: Embracing the Goddess Lessons on Change
Back in November I had a dream about Kali. She was screaming and everyone all at once ran. They tried to close a door and contain her, but the door...
Kali: Embracing the Goddess Lessons on Change
Back in November I had a dream about Kali. She was screaming and everyone all at once ran. They tried to close a door and contain her, but the door...
Dreams, Symbols & the Subconscious
Dreams as Seeds Our subconscious mind speaks in riddles, not clear instructions. Dreams arrive as symbols, fragmented and strange—familiar faces in unfamiliar roles, places you've never been yet somehow recognize....
Dreams, Symbols & the Subconscious
Dreams as Seeds Our subconscious mind speaks in riddles, not clear instructions. Dreams arrive as symbols, fragmented and strange—familiar faces in unfamiliar roles, places you've never been yet somehow recognize....
A Horse Named Truth
You feel it, don’t you? That faint vibration at the edges of your senses, the one you’ve been trying to ignore. You’ve been noticing the cracks, haven’t you? The way...
A Horse Named Truth
You feel it, don’t you? That faint vibration at the edges of your senses, the one you’ve been trying to ignore. You’ve been noticing the cracks, haven’t you? The way...
The Invitation
The Invitation It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s...
The Invitation
The Invitation It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s...
Ravens and Writing
It began with a feather. A glossy black one, lying pristine on my snow-covered doorstep, untouched by the swirling chaos of wind and ice around it. It felt deliberate, as...
Ravens and Writing
It began with a feather. A glossy black one, lying pristine on my snow-covered doorstep, untouched by the swirling chaos of wind and ice around it. It felt deliberate, as...