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Feeling creatively blocked? Feel like you don’t know yourself anymore?

I’ll help you rediscover your self in the present—and nourish your creative spark (which I consider to be your essence, a spiritual connection).

Let’s work together in a day intensive or 4 sessions/month.

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vintage fishbowl charms

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Dick Higgins, (1977), The Nature of Fish, (postcard), Unpublished Editions, Kensington, CA, n.d. [1978] [Unoriginal Sins, The Old Primary School, Temple, Midlothian. © Dick Higgins]

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The Erotic Nature of Being Present

Originally written in August 2021

I can smell fresh grass and wet dirt in the air, feel the cool, sharp edge in the breeze. Yet even though I know the rain is coming, it always finds a way to catch me off guard. The clouds form daily, seated heavily upon the mountain tops. Light grey then darker, the wind blows a warning to get inside before the celestial purge.

My list of to dos had been provoking anxiety since Monday — the simple things that normally don’t merit stress. But after 4 days of avoidance, I spoke the most important tasks out loud: buy squash, take pants to the seamstress, check bank account, buy chorizo, visit a bookstore, refill water jugs, do ANYTHING to make progress in my life and finances.

(Squash-buying anxiety may be a cover up for something deeper but we’re not there yet.)

As the ansias fluttered in my chest, I chose to delight in my collection of ever evolving coping techniques- a more mature version of activities that can trace their origins to a 24 year old Ashley: black moka pot coffee, cigarettes, guilt (at least it’s no longer shame!), matching bra and high-cut panties and applying “for mature skin” cream to my face and décolletage.

By 2 pm, my skin was sufficiently hydrated. The sun was still out but the clouds had begun to pile into the crevices of the mountain. It was a sensual moment. With the rain an hour or two away, I tied my windbreaker over my white pants, below the reach of my top. 

Cute. Balanced. Prepared. 

I walked out the door with my empty bag and an unnecessarily worried heart.

One by one, I crossed off my to dos:

squash in the bag

pants in her hands

money in my pocket

for the chorizo

i forgot

I kept walking and could smell fresh grass and wet dirt in the air, feel the cool, sharp edge in the breeze. 

The rain was coming, at some point, but I felt I had just enough time to make a brief stop at a bookstore that I had been excited to visit before returning to the market for the chorizo.

The simple act of walking is actually the best coping technique for anxiety yet always the last ditch effort. Regardless, I left my house anxious to complete these mundane tasks and found myself in the bookstore, in a peaceful state.

I gently picked up the books within my reach, works of art, fingering through the pages while looking for the shadowy words that make my pulse grow. Each book, a container into which I poured myself. The space itself, a bubble in time, where words flowed into parched patches awakening seeds of curiosity.

Surrounded by thread bound pieces of art filled with words grappling with the fluid nature of experience, aroma of coffee the gradual lessening of luminance as the sun was overtaken by the clouds that left their home in the mountains to visit the city… did they feel anxious before arriving too?

I was comfortable and wanted to stay and browse longer. I untied my windbreaker from my waist, placed my bag on the floor. Squash doesn’t require refrigeration and I hadn’t yet picked up chorizo, so we were going to be ok.

Pleasure is finding myself amidst books, words, aromas, art and the darkened glow of an impending storm. 

I pressed pause in that spacetime and felt the silent moments of my relative existence. How clear words ring when paired with the musical pauses of silence.

A sudden staccato of cold, hard raindrops began pounding on a tin roof and broke the normal rhythm, inviting an abstract interlude to the scene. Voices could no longer be heard and talking made no sense-we sat in the presence of rain and the cool, sharp edge of the breeze.

When noise becomes so loud that nothing can be heard, does it become silence?

Looking through the frame of the door as the rain poured down harder by the minute, I appreciated my anxiety for taking care of my schedule for the day, placing me in that bookstore shortly before the storm arrived.

I celebrated having gotten my squash. I let my lips lightly fall open—relaxing into feeling, being.

Just being.

The noise became silence and I was held in the folds of time in a space where only I belonged.

To sit in low light between the ecstatic roar of silence and the power of a thunderstorm is erotic.

To lust for the continuation of that sensual moment is to be present.

But lust, like rain, is passing.

So I closed my eyes and felt it all before letting it go back to the universe.

the rainan invitationto silence,the tasteof coffeeand milk,the wordsthat penetratedthe cool,sharp edgebefore webecame normal

By Ash(ley) Michelle C. on August 15, 2021.

Canonical link

Exported from Medium

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Marinus Boezem, To make the Structure of the Terrain perceptible by acoustic Means, (collage on paper), 1970 [S.M.A.K., Gand-Ghent. © Marinus Boezem]

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Creative Clarity VIP Day

I am ready for tomorrow's big VIP Day for Creative Clarity that I'll be leading!

Worksheets in order! Conversation points ready! Intuition and ability to see beyond turned on!

The VIP Day is where my expertise, intuition and ability to see your unique essence, your soul's truths come together to help you:

-See yourself with joy -Find your voice with curiosity -Plan your next moves with strategy -And express yourself with poetic confidence

It's going to be intense but my client is ready and energized... and so am I.

I am booked for the next two months but I'll be sharing more opportunities to work together in my next newsletter which obviously will show up on your feed!

I'm about to be all up in your ear reminding you that your ideas are worth looking into... and some of them are worth prepping and doing NOW.

(Also, posting this pic of the haircut I gave myself this morning AND my pearl and bean necklace I made... I am in love with both)

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Slow and Steady

I've been making a lot of big changes in life in the last two years.

And just last night, I had my first dream in a long ass time that carried a potent message.

I'm not here to share it all because honestly, this writing would be better for my book I am drafting... but what I do want to say is I am beyond happy to have decisively ended a chapter and then patiently and consistently begun this new one.

As a person who has a tendency to push, hustle, build, make moves and OVERSHARE, it has been nourishing and important to go slow and be quiet. To remove myself from the stagnancy of personal branding. To let myself know, it is ok to start over, AGAIN.

It's funny though—in this slowness, the pace has actually picked up in certain areas of life. I've been working with new clients, creating more tangible objects of poetry and image, taking care of myself in new ways.

But you know what? Slowness is a state of mind.

I am steady in my actions yet I do not rush to reach the outcome.

I communicate with honesty with those who understand this growth yet I refrain from sharing it all because I am still processing my own lessons.

I learn how to listen to the truths of my soul and dive into the records yet feel deeply human.

I prepare for a new chapter where stories come to life in sensorial forms and take my time developing myself alongside my expression. We are inseparable.

This is slowness. This moment of peace with pacing and giving myself permission to not be excellent all the time. To simply be; drink an afternoon coffee; watch this bird outside my window who has the silliest look (you dumb and lovely little pigeon).

I am so grateful for that dream last night that made today feel so real.

Is there anything better than being at peace with your reality? Especially when it's not how you had planned it and know it's all going to change... soon.

Hope you are having a nice Sunday... and finding ways to set your pace.

Con Amor,

Ashley Michelle Casillas.

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Lovely card draw for what definitely feels like the beginning of a sub chapter in a new chapter of life.

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A beautiful feeling

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I love her. Sanyu + my perspective.

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A lil Saturday morning shoot to document this dress I painted with bleach. Snakey loungewear.

Una sesión rápida de fotos este sábado por la mañana para documentar este vestido que pinté con cloro. Ropa de salón de serpiente.

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Love the way the art is hung.

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Nobody taught me how to draw. And then I grew to fear it and avoided it forever opting to write instead.

But I’m finding so much peace in drawing as a beginner adult. I have no expectations for myself at this time other than to learn and grow my skills.

So to do so, I've been copying the artists I've alwavs loved and those I’ve recently discovered in my obsessive quest to figure out my lines, shapes and forms.

Today I learned from Sanyu.

Nadie me enseñó a dibujar. Luego llegué a temerlo y lo evité para siempre optando por escribir en su lugar.

Pero estoy encontrando mucha paz en el dibujo como adulto principiante. No tengo expectativas para mí misma en este momento, aparte de aprender y desarrollar mis habilidades.

Así que para hacerlo, he estado copiando a los artistas que siempre he admirado y a los que he descubierto recientemente en mi búsqueda obsesiva para descubrir cuáles son mis líneas, formas y formas.

Hoy aprendí de Sanyu.

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My corner of my drawings and favorite things is growing…

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The most beautiful infusion for purifying and fortifying the blood. Plant: Muicle Parts: stems and leaves

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Morning three card Cartomancy rituals

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From: Alighiero e Boetti. De bouche à oreille – En Alternant de 1 à 100 et viceversa, Le Magasin – Centre National d’Art Contemporain de Grenoble, Grenoble, November 27, 1993 – March 27, 1994 [© Fondazione Alighiero e Boetti, Roma]

Alternando da uno a cento e viceversa, (kilim in wool and cotton), 1993 Design by Jean-Hubert Martin Exemplary illustration