Mermaid Prayers 1

I'm on a journey now, or so they tell me. The divers are welcoming me, warning me, reassuring me, encouraging me, celebrating me as I move into the water beside them and allow my cells to dance and splash with passionate curiosity and pleasure. They say it just gets better and better. They say it's addictive. They say it's an entire lifestyle. They say I'm a natural. They agree it's my destiny unfolding.

I am delighted, completely in flow, to be waking up each morning and walking through a little village where everyday is just the same. I write in my journal, exploring the ocean inside me. I push my body to sweat in the open air gym so my muscles will be strong and then I dive into the water to cool off and be free, floating in smooth bliss. I snack on nuts, drink match, sing and read books. I sit on the cliff and produce these little songs and videos.

My GoPro is under the water with me now to capture the liquid light. My microphone and guitar are set up at the end of my bed to capture the prayers sliding through my lips. I'm playing in my elements now more than ever before...water, music and light moving together. I'm playing mermaid and praying through music. I'm not sure what a mermaid really is and I'm not sure what praying really is either so this is all an experiment, exploring some mystical concepts through action that feels good in my body.

I'm falling in love with the colors and sounds of the ocean, the darkness within me, the stillness and silence always available as I hold my breath and listen. This entire experience, everything you see me creating here, everything I'm receiving and giving as a human being, is listening.

This is the first video of many to come, my first go at playing with a camera underwater and creating a song to go with it. What will this lead to? I'm so curious and enthused to witness the blossoming art, born through a journey of adventures.

Please, share with me/us what you see, hear and feel when you watch my new videos, starting with this one. What parts of you rise to the surface? What parts of you deep down are touched? What parts of you feel?

Love & Rainbow Bubbles,
Cha Wilde

Praying with Music and Playing with Water

With these roosters, good luck sleeping past 530am. Keep your eyes on the floor or you’ll soon hear a crunch. The crunch means you just killed a millipede. I’ve killed four today. I live amongst millipedes now. I will learn of their ways and I will love them. I don’t know how many times I’ve reached my hand into the pee-filled toilet. I keep forgetting to NOT flush toilet paper. Put it in the little waste bin. Damn it. Again and again my toilet reflexes are proving how well trained they’ve become in America. You don’t even need to use paper. Use the ‘Asian bum gun’ and we wouldn’t be having this problem in the first place. At least the soap in the bathroom smells divine; a floral fragrance I can’t place with any particular flower, just happy comfortable memories.

I am enjoying long slow mornings on the terrance above the bedroom. A hammock, a fan, sun sparkling through lime green leaves and fragrant flowers. DIY Matcha lattes in a wooden bowl and good books I’ve been waiting patiently to read, books that help me feel happy to be a human just as I am. Read with me. I’ve been turning the pages of “Seven Thousand Ways to Listen” by Mark Nepo since October when I lifted it off the bookshelf in an AirBnb in Ubud, Bali. The theme of my last trip was “listen” so naturally, the first book I picked off the shelf was dedicated to this topic. Destiny is sweet sometimes. Today this book led me to “A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough” by Wayne Muller. I read one sentence and clicked “Buy Now”. I’m also reading “The Energy of Prayer” by Thich Nhat Hanh. Prayer has been missing from my life for years. I explored it for the first time when I was sixteen and stuck with it for a few years then dropped it. I sense there is deep value in this mysterious practice. It doesn’t have to make sense to offer a benefit. So I turn to Buddhism to help me walk into something new. It’s a path a trust with my eyes closed. A few pages into this book and it occurs to me that perhaps I can pray through music. It was probably the music, singing with a thousand people in a sanctuary, that attracted me to the church in the first place. After leaving the church, the current kept bringing me through quiet places of sound. I sang in the yoga studios. I fell in love again and again at music festivals. I retreat to the studio vocal booth and the soundscapes I craft in my imaginations, my headphones are the portal to enter into these digital music worlds. I’ve sung in worship before I understood what I understand now about the divine, as medicine through sound healing before anyone who knew what they were doing sang for me, and I’ve sung myself to ease in times of struggle. When these young parts of me are nervous to make sounds, the throat closes up and tension stiffens the limbs, and they feel forced to perform and be perfect. And what happens when it’s not a performance? What happens when it’s just a prayer? Softness.

I feel soft in the water. Upside down, spinning and swirling without weight, suspended in liquid of the perfect temperature I am home, playful energy dances through every cell in my body. I can float and gaze up at the pink clouds and the water tastes like lemons. A new diving mask on my face lets me do summersaults without water going up my nose. This is perhaps the greatest upgrade to water play I’ve ever experienced. I can hold my breath for two minutes now on land and I’ve only lasted one and half minutes under water so far. I haven’t full tested myself. I’ve just been playing around, lightly, gently, easing into the underwater world. I like to move into it without pressure. It’s all soft curiosity. I feel the edge and pull away. Then I go again. I makes me smile easily. Swimming in a prayer too.

Eating Nasi Campur (vegan version with tofu and tempeh) for dinner.
Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Sunrise on a Bridge in a Balinese Village

I stood on the bridge and watched them live. Plastic wrappers stand in the river and humans float down the road. Little red uniforms marching to school. Banana leaves, temples, rice paddies and a tropical red baseball cap worn backwards. Plastic bags in puddles and roosters raising their voices above the trillion chirpers. A dirt road leads to a hundred hidden homes and one by one the scooters drive out carrying growing babies. The river dog is sniffing around on the rocks, right where I left him twenty four hours ago. Pick the white flowers off the driveway. It’s a new day. Roosters run in gangs like the schools boys. A face that looked like it smiled for a hundred years.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Naked in Bali with a Proud Old Friend

I cannot go back and live again.
Everything unfolds like the wings of a butterfly.
And old friends are happy to see the new colors.
I love her almost as much as I love you.
I’ve had this dream since I was a child.
And I am searching for solutions.
Light and dark.

What you do not see in the random video clips from my days, is the way I fell in love with a dear old friend, the spaciousness of my spirit when the air and water meet, the peace in my body as rose petals were across my sensitive skin, and the way a piece of me softened to let me forward into a new chapter of life.

We drank banana juice, ate fried rice, enjoyed a couples’ Balinese massage, and played MarioKart outside of Sushimi in Seminyak before going inside to grab little moving plates of sushi. We drank tea and poured secret whispers of our soul; a refreshing treat to lap up in the safety of a well-aged friendship. He gave me someone to hug deeply. We danced a hugging sway on the night street. I rested my head into his shoulder and smiled at his hair, the same as I’ve always known it. He’s wild like a lion. He is still proud. He held me closely and insisted I should consider myself lucky. He is another comfortable human I can share time with. He seems like a human whose time is as free as mine and a human who is excited to become more free beside me. Somehow he helps my voice remember it is a gift and I remember the way I use it is an art. The greatest beauty is possible in the greatest simplicity. Every action and word I offer to the expansion of the this universe is drenched thoroughly to the core in love.

We drop out clothes and jump into the dark pool. I love being naked with people. I love being naked with myself. I love being real. Real not perfect. Real is most comfortable now that I’m used to it.

Love & Double Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Comfortable Thoughts in Bali Sunshine

I had a dream to play on a certain stage.
I snuck on that stage one sunrise and played my set with the songbirds.
And now, here I am.
I’ve returned to the wild.
What songs will play through me in this moment, this time?

I smiled as the machete fell through the fresh coconut. 20,000 IDR for refreshing clear coconut water, full of electrolytes to refresh my traveled body. I walked barefoot down the firm sand of Seminyak Beach, threw myself into a handstand and heard a crunch in my left shoulder. Over eager I asked my body to do something it simply wasn’t ready to do. As I said once in my twenties, “I showed up with too much enthusiasm and fucked the whole thing up.” (The injury isn’t that bad. It’ll heal quickly and in the meantime I’ll focus on strengthening my core muscles so future handstands will be stronger). The sun burned my shoulders in five minutes and I went to sleep at 3pm. I woke up at 4am for meditation. I held my breath for over two minutes. I ran down the beach until my hips were sore. I feel age in my body. I run with my sandals in my left hand and my phone in my right. I run barefoot and I wish I could say the same about my hands.

As I run on this wide open beach, warm air on my skin, I miss home and I feel at home. I feel a warmth in my chest when I see my adventures and interests leading me closer to my family. My mother can teach me how to stand on my hands better so I will have more fun upside on the beach. My brother can teach me to play guitar so I can write more beautiful songs at sunset. My husband can teach me to play games with sharper strategy so I’ll relax more and perform better at work. My dad is teaching me about wise financial investments so I’ll be able to enjoy creating more freedom so I can run on beaches as long as I want to. I am remembering and celebrating that the humans around me are happy resources. As I’ve lived with CPTSD for the past few years, humans have more often felt like disregulating chaos and danger to my peace and wellbeing. Taking myself to new countries is helping me emerge from protective isolation, remembering the strength and safety I have within myself and my community.

Today my path crosses with Arno for the first time in twelve years. My parts feel nervous and excited. A part of me wants to impress him with who I’ve become. Will we celebrate how we’ve progress in life since university? What will he see when he looks at me? How has his face changed? I’m afraid to see his wrinkles and I also know they will comfort mine.

Preparing to meet with him, I lay beneath a swaying tree beside a round turquoise pool. I’ve desired this beautiful life close to nature and I’ve moved myself closer to it. I fear it being taken away. The beauty of Earth and humanity can so easily be ripped away. My mother’s fascination with the human body and my father’s love of the wilderness are both within me. The more I love my body the more I love the Earth. I rest my hands above my head and slow down into the breeze. Everything I’ve built can be deleted with the click of a button, so can life.

I wish I could be happy and grateful in all situations. I wonder if I would change if I practiced loving-kindness meditation and gratitude daily. I wish I knew how to change in certain ways. I wish I could guarantee certain things wouldn’t happen again. What happened to my relationship with music? How did something so beautiful crash? I still feel strong desire to sing and my voice has felt tight, too uncomfortable to come out and play in most places. I wonder what it would feel like to sing freely everywhere? I want a studio or a stage, a place where I am allowed to belt it out, a place where I am supposed to let loose. Why not let loose all the time? I don’t want to disrupt people and yet I sense this is an old rusty idea that can be change. My voice has the power to heal, to bring peace, and joy. I’ve heard this too many times to doubt its truth. So imperfectly, with curiosity and wonder, I’ll continue listening for the music.

I see the dog basking in the morning sun and taste coffee. I love the beauty, simplicity and slow energy in Bali. I feel peace in the air and there is so much space for all these thoughts to roll through me. I empty them out. I have felt such a fight to keep the past alive and I feel ease in surrendering to flow which will take me somewhere new if I allow it to take me.

My feet in the ocean water, running on the sand. The light of the sky reflecting on wet earth. The road of the waves. The way the leaves move in the wind. The air on my skin as I ride on a scooter. The brightness of sunshine, the light is beautiful. Mom reminds me to ‘always look for comfort.’ I am comfortable here in Bali.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Traveling Back to the Light with Resentment Towards Music

While on a plane to Asia, a part of me felt so heavy and she picked up the phone to type this note for me.

What feels fun? Why doesn’t music feel fun? It feels heavy. Am I really just done with it and refusing to be done with it? Is there too much trauma in my body associated with music for me to now create through it, despite it, with it, ever without it? It feels stale and old and painful. Something fresh feels fun.

It’s the structure. Music is math. It must all fit so perfectly in the grid. I love the feeling of being free with paint on my fingers. Any mess I make is perfection. With music, the mess is just mess. With my voice, vocal improvisation, chanting, humming, cooing, and trilling around in the air waves…this is where I feel freedom in music. Give me a microphone and a dark soundproof room. Leave me completely alone so I know with certainty no one can hear me and I will open the channel. When there are no rules, there is just play and mess is good and through this I find a way to express whatever has felt stuck inside for too long.

I can get into music through dance. When I hear music from the outside or from the inside of me and I am able to relax the muscles around it. Then and only then the muscle ripples through the tissues I inhabit and it moves them effortless. The music in literally inside me, enlivening this bag of flesh.

I still hear the warning tension. Music can eat you alive. It can completely take over. I don’t want to loss the other parts of me to or for the obsessive love of music. If I let it flow through, I don’t know how to shut off and balance. When I think of music, I feel so raw and vulnerable. When I feel music I feel free.

I don’t like people, especially my parents, hearing me sing about my deep dark pain. It’s very exposing and yet all I want to do is expose myself. What do I keep for myself that does not also belong to everyone? I wish I just wrote happy songs that felt good. Why do I sing so much pain? Because it is how I drain pain from my body. I am so free and at peace, joyful and energized after I release the tension into the sound space and realize I didn’t need to hold on so tightly to it anymore.

I have memories of people who were not comfortable holding or even witnessing my pain. These moments created a feeling in me that my pain is unwanted, not welcome and only tolerated. I have learned to love the pain, to love everything I see inside me. In doing so, I love all that I am, all that I contain. With this much acceptance, tension release and all emotions, light and dark, are able to process through the body. No emotion, painful or pleasurable, is meant to stay in the body for long. They are all just waves passing through. It takes a gross amount of courage for me to face all the waves and I only proceed because I love emerging from the water cleansed.

When I started making music, I was enchanted into a world of fantasy. The dream world isn’t as interesting to me anymore. The dream got me out of bed and practicing piano before work. The dream got me stepping out of my comfort zone with hope that I was capable. The dream got me going and kept me going. Now the skills are rooted in my body and growing. Peace in the present is more interesting to me now.

Desiring simplicity, longing for liberation from this mental chaos, I walked through the airports burdened and resentful. I wished I were traveling lighter with just a bikini, diving mask, Kindle, journal, guitar, and GoPro. My body felt swollen in the airports as I carried musical equipment across the globe. I left on this journey, afraid to choose. I resisted the approach of less being more, though I did my best to integrate it. I’ve carried the burden with hope that it would be worth something beautiful. Traveling with this weight is difficult. Under heavy bags on my shoulders, bags under my eyes, bags in my mind, I wasn’t able to listen to my body. Maybe I was listening to my body but it’s hard to hear in a raging storm. A month in the city of Seattle, in my old house with my greatest love, was discombobulating. My wires frazzled, my old habits and new habits glitching, I stuffed what felt essential into a 100L backpack and ripped myself away from comfort once again.

The simpler version of me is lovelier to be. She just likes playing with pretty colors and making silly faces. The music triggers a darker side who loves the stars and lights. What was all this for? Surely, I can be kinder to myself and find compassion for the parts of me who return me to music again and again. I’m sure they are lovely as well, just misunderstood and a bit afraid of coming out to play.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Flying to Asia with Music Equipment on My Back

I dream of the trip I make with a small bag of blissfully simple essentials; bikini, journal, guitar, and a Kindle. Alas, here I go again on a trip with bags weighing more than my body and I curse the burden with faith that my dreams are coming true. I can’t tell you how many hours I sat in coffee shops in the past eight years, producing my early songs on older laptops, fantasizing about the day when I would be working in the same program (Ableton Live), creating new songs in new places, exotic places. My most prominent daydream was hovering around me since 2018, a vision of myself sitting at a table on a porch of a treehouse in a jungle in a rainstorm, on my laptop producing music. I escaped into the music and dreamed of escaping into the world beyond the coffee shops of Seattle. Well, here we go with a music studio on my shoulders.

Thank goodness for the wonders of traditional Balinese massage. My shoulders are lovingly sacrificing themselves for this artistic trip to Asia. Why is it worth it? These days, I’m making life decisions for these people within me, my parts (Refer to “Internal Family Systems”). A part of me longs to try this music trip, a tour of sorts, and so I give it to her. She worked hard and prayed for this. Now it is possible. I will satisfy the wonder. I fulfill the promises I made to myself and in doing so space is cleared, fresh space for a new dream to play with, a new wonder to sparkle in my consciousness. I feel I am finishing something I started many years ago so I may begin anew.

My body is excited to play in the water, to understand handstands, to open the energy flow through my chakras so I may experience deeper freedom in my movements, voice and relationships. My body is excited for simplicity and simplicity is immediately available. It’s in the mind. So why are my bags so completely stuffed?

I feel the burden of a complex mind pulling down on my shoulders and I wonder with less wisdom than usual what I’ll discover on this trip. Will these toys on my back help me conjure magic? Will this trip be the opportunity for me to learn to conjure magic with less toys? I suppose my adult parts are content with a bikini, a diving mask and a Kindle. I packed these monstrously heavy bags for all these children inside me. I love them and so I carry their luggage this time. Perhaps on this trip these young parts of me will mature beautifully and discover they need less entertainment. “Less is more,” is a key lesson I’ve been teaching them since Thailand.

So what’s in the bags? Phew. It’s a music focused trip so I’ve got a new MacBook Pro (for making music videos and producing songs), Taylor GS Mini guitar, Akai MIDI Mini Play keyboard, Aston Spirit Microphone, Focusrite Scarlett 4.4 Audio Interface, GoPro and Canon 5d Mark IV, Two 4TB Lacie External Harddrives, Four Tripods (one for phone, one for GoPro, one for DSLR, one for microphone — I run all four pieces of equipment simultaneously so they all are using their own stands), Rode Wireless Go Bluetooth microphones, XLR cables, and Sony mixing headphones. That’s just most of the music equipment.

My personal stuff includes workout clothing, bikinis, a Kindle, journals, toiletries, rainbow shorts and tee-shirt for cozy moments, Jean shorts and crochet top for daily wear, baggy jumpsuit for travel, fleece hoodie for summiting to cold climates, Matcha (powder, whisk and wooden bowl powder — my special morning beverage treat), a couple figurines that hang out on my bedside table keeping me company, resistance bands and a rope-less jump rope (aka little balls I swing on a string hehe in case I can’t find a gym), Bose Speaker for dance parties, Nintendo Switch (I told you the kids packed the bags!) to continue improving my Settlers of Catan and Mario Kart skills so I’m primed for victory when I visit my Seattle competitors again and (final drum roll!) a brand new ScubaPro diving mask! Oh, and a few paint brushes and pallets knives stuffed into the creases of the bag in case my painter part decides to crash the party. Shoes: Nike running shoes, Haviana Flippy Floppies and New White Leather Birkenstocks which I’m determined to bring home absolutely dirty. Besides all that, it’s just me with my passport, ticket and money.

What will I do with all of this? Write some songs in the cafe, dive in the ocean on one breath, practice handstands on the beach, make some fun videos for you to watch, write on this blog, and meditate with the sunrise and sunset each day.

I wrote this blog post while standing in the check in and security lines at SEATAC airport. Leaving Seattle on Monday. Arriving in Bali on Wednesday. Approximately 30 hours of travel, 21 in the air. See you there!

Love & Double Rainbows,

Cha Wilde

PS: I think I forgot my AirPods, not sure where my house keys are, decided not to wear any rings this time, a large chocolate bar is in the side pocket, my eyeballs kinda feel swollen, my nose is sore from dry air, and my deodorant smells like Roses.

The Last of the Paint in Remaining Thoughts

“Over the zone of my comfort
Under the surface I know
Out on my own in my own way
It’s good if it’s making me grow”

— new Cha Wilde lyrics on the way

Will you understand if I want to focus on songwriting, to improve as a musician, play with paint, dive into water and become mermaid? I want free flow of energy and space to create playfully. Energy and space to teach what I know. A part of me feels forced to share. She doesn’t want to. Parts feel fear of being sucked into old energy. There is so much tension in my body when I play music and when I paint I’m all loose playfulness. The music hits blockages the painting doesn’t. Musician part feels sidetracked by painting and writing and yoga parts who have grown the business. Need more focused flow time in music studio. Need to let go of dreams. So what do I let go of now? The important thing is to be in flowing beautiful positive energy. What feels most playful? Go there. That’s where god is hanging out waiting for you. Keep it simple. Natural pattern of expansion and contraction. Chaos and order. I am free to create.

A part of me feels forced to share. She doesn’t want to. Parts feel fear of being sucked into someone else’s energy. Suffering rises from prolonged indecision.

There is so much tension in my body when I play music, especially my jaw. When I paint I’m all loose playfulness. The music hits blockages the painting doesn’t.

Parts of me feel tension when I’m told I’m a life coach or going to be famous. I want to make art and be with people. I want to go with flow. Some of my parts don’t like other people barging in and telling me about my life and my future.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Writing My Way Home to the Ocean - d13

I wrote my way to where I wanted to be.

In my bliss there are no words.

My vocabulary of sensations expands with my peace. Peace is mine. Joy is mine. Space is mine.

Nothing else is mine. Even the breath isn’t mine; I always have to give it back. What I am left with at the end of the exhale, that is mine. What I am left with after my final exhale, that is mine.

I love peeing in the ocean water, feeling warmth around my legs in the cool environment, a deep feeling of relaxation as my body releases what it needs to release. The lungs I breath feel subtle movement of air, the volume and speed of gas entering and exiting through the mouth with every breath. I’m adjusting my buoyancy with my breath. My breath controls everything; whether I sink, float, rise, turn. I’ve trained for this underwater world for over a decade on the yoga mat. Of course I love it. I get to be in flow, in a world where breathing is the most important rule, the main thing I focus on. Scuba diving is perfectly aligned with my yoga practice; every breath to match and control every movement. What I practice on the yoga mat is alive underwater because with the surface far above me, attention to breath is now life or death. If I forget to breath, I die. On the yoga mat, if I forget to breath, my mind wanders and I catch myself over and over. I see how easily I wander away from the breath. Underwater, there is no more space for wandering, it is all alive in real life, edge of death importance now, breath is everything like it has never been before. Of course I love diving; I get to meditate in pranayama as I flow within the mighty power of the ocean. The mat is a place to flow on land the way I can when I am diving in water. Yoga off the mat and into the water.

Because I went scuba diving with Aussie divers, I am now very well trained in my fundamentals, I feel a bond with this team of instructors, and confident and excited to explore diving in other parts of the world. Because I did this, I discovered that I am naturally talented as a diver it seems. I also serendipitously met a videographer who is excited to shoot me and make surfing music videos with me and travel with me to Raja Ampat to film a documentary for Arno and film me as we travel — beautiful yoga videos on boats and beaches, and mermaid videos in the surf and scuba! Wtf!?!

Serendipity. My favorite instructor gets randomly assigned to my last day of training at the last minute. There’s a music videographer who has been praying to meet someone like me for a long time, just like I’ve been praying to meet him. I meet an example of a hot guy I’m interested in on the boat whose name is Landon 😍

I’m really not that concerned about what I see. I’m just happy to be in the water, to feel the water on my skin soft and cool, to feel my body pulled along by current and to be a part of something greater, submerged in mama ocean, back home where I started. To be in a womb again. This is why I love diving immediately. Everyone keeps asking me if I saw a turtle or a shark as if these are the main events. Yes, I saw them. Yes, they’re magical. Yes, I’m there for something so much more than just one creature, more than eye spy fish games, more than taking pictures. I’m there for so much less and less is more. I’m there to be fully submerged in water, breathing in water, present in water, playing in water. Everything else is decorative and delightful. Everything else is extra on top of what is enough. The ocean herself is enough. Everything she contains are new friends I get to meet. The ocean herself though is what called me. She called me and now here I am, floating in her arms. Did I see a turtle? The questions they ask open my eyes to the mindset of everyone they’re used to encountering. I suppose once again, they’ve probably never met someone like me. Everywhere I go is the same. No one has ever met anyone like me; a girl who dove into the ocean because she wanted to go home.

Love & Rainbows,

Cha Wilde

The Ocean

Wherever people are (working) barefoot, this is a good sign.

There are cats slinking around every corner.

They call me sunshine.

I’m rae-diating.

I feel eyes watching me.

I am the space that everyone, especially men, eagerly fill.

This is a good way to spend time; on a boat in the Andaman sea.

If every moment brings a memory,

is there space in my memory for this moment? Moments are sharing memories; is this moment for remembering, is this moment to be remembered or is this moment to be fully lived and fully forgotten. This moment is enough without memory. Memories can increase meaning of moments. Moments are still worth experiencing even without memory. Memories are just extra layers; not entirely necessary for good life.

I am just life enjoying itself.

I am life enjoying being alive.

I am life in love with itself.

When I am with the ocean I feel I am finally in the presence of someone / something as deep as I am. The ocean isn’t afraid of my depth. Finally, someone who is just as deep as I am. She can hold all of me as I explore both of us.

I used to fear the ocean, fear because my beneath the surface, feel getting trapped down below and not being able to breathe and suffering the suffocating pain. With proper training, now I can submerge fully and play, more alive because I went down. The ocean, my soul, they are the same. There is no need to fear our depths, the depths within us and the depths from which we have come. The entire universe is depth in all directions for us to explore. Take a deep breath and slowly let it out as you sink deeper into the water, into the SOMA, into everything that is. Diving in the ocean has taught me how to dive within myself with beautiful skill.

I’m not afraid anymore to go deeper, to feel deeper, to swim into the unknown, to look around and see nothing but blue. It’s peaceful now. What used to terrify me is now my peaceful home.

For years I felt the calling. I’d wake up every morning and write in my journal, asking myself … “if you could do anything today, what would it be? No limitations.” … my answer was always “go to the ocean, the beach.” And “drive a Miata”. That’s it. Drive a Miata drive I the beach and dive into the water. I just want to play and do twirls underwater. I’m a mermaid with a sports car. The Miata makes my time on land, my surface interval, more fun.

The ocean is perhaps the only being who can match my level of peace. Everyone else seems to ask something of me, from me. The ocean just lets me be. She’ll take me as I am in all my states. We can just be together. The ocean and me, we look the same on the inside; endless watery depths, quiet and soft within and sparkling on the surface, able to hold and play.

I asked and prayed for a life partner who could meet me at the depth I feel like swimming. I looked at the faces of all the men and women and then my feet turned toward the beach and I swam off into the ocean. I think the ocean is the source of all my life and the only who can truly understand me and where I’m coming from and what I’m made of and why I’m still here going strong. The ocean, the ocean.

Love & Rainbow Bubbles,

Cha Wilde

Painting with the Sunset

Welcome to a painting-filled hotel room at the Aochalong Villa Resort & Spa. The walls are orange, the pool is surrounded by trees swaying in a warm breeze, random pretty and silly statues are hiding around every corner of this beach side safe haven. Walk up the street through the palm tree fields and you’ll pop out onto a chaotic traffic buzzing road. Phuket is an island city vibe; constant traffic, honking, cars everywhere. It’s a relief to walk into the resort and hear nothing but birds. From the balcony I look across giant green leaves to the boats in the harbor and the giant Buddha on the hill. What a view to rest inside. Another week in Phuket has inspired many abstract sunset paintings. I painted the first batch on the pool deck by the beach during a YouTube livestream. The second batch were painted in the middle of the night on the balcony in semi-darkness. Waking the next morning to the surprise of which colors I used…always an artist delight. What did I create in the night, I wonder. I carefully drag the canvases inside so they can dry in the air conditioning. Pro-tip, in tropical climates the humidity outside prevents paintings from fully drying (quickly). Paint outside and bring them inside to dry within a day. The air conditioning is also drying out our human sinuses and throat so be mindful of the air you’re breathing. It’s better for the paintings inside and better for us outside. ;)

I’m living a dream when I pack these big bags. I look as if I’m heading to the airport. I’m actually calling a car to drive me across the island to Ao Yon Beach. Tonight I’m unrolling a giant canvas onto the soft creamy sand. The sun will set slowly as a photographer moves around me, capturing me as I paint at lightning speed. All the little paintings I’ve created at the hotel are my sketches and experiments, the prep-work for these bigger pieces. I have a loose idea of what I’m about to create…more deep blue oceans, rainbow florescent fire at the horizon and soft pink and grey in the sky. You’ve seen me playing with this on livestreams, on paper, and now it’s time for the big canvas moment. What’s the dream I’m living, you wonder? To be painting the beach sunset on the beach at sunset. For years, I was painting beachy sunsets indoors, in the garage, in the studio, in a tent in the forest, praying that one day I would be able to paint the sunsets I imagined as they appeared before my eyes in the actual sky. It’s a pain in the ass to haul all the art supplies around on my back, to juggle all the straps and canvas and guitar (yes the guitar came on the photo shoot painting adventure, of course). It’s also totally worth it. When I’m knee deep in warm sand, sand sprinkling into the paint, canvas edges blown over by the warm evening breeze, gold light sparkling in my eyes, and a cool ocean promises I can float around when I put down the final palette knife…yes this is worth it. This is the dream; to create sunsets while I enjoy sunsets, to participate in the creative energy of the universe as the universe enjoying the universe. I am not inside in a box daydreaming and wishing I were somewhere else. I am right where I want to be.

Ao Yan beach is for locals at the end of the day. It’s been two days since I went scuba diving, two days out of the mighty ocean, two strange days on land. As usual, my feet touch the sand and step into the washing waves and voila, I feel the grounding healing power travel up from my soles to my soul. This quiet beautiful bay is a medicinal retreat from the chaos I’ve been feeling on the roads of Phuket. I asked the driver to stop by 7 Eleven on the trip to this beach so I could buy water, raisins and some chocolate. I’m wondering why I decided to snack on raisins before a photo shoot. Raisins cause bloating and I would rather not be swollen like a balloon before playing bikini dress up for the camera. Oh well. I’ve noticed I make slightly strange decisions like this when the sweat is rolling down my skin, the internet isn’t picking up on my devices, the money in my pocket is low, my debit card has gone missing, the taxi drivers aren’t understanding where to pick me up, the taxi windows are tinted dark so I feel no warm sunlight or breeze on my skin as we commute for an hour in traffic. All these little irritations build up until I feel slightly delirious and almost cursing the decision to show up and do a photo shoot. I was not in the mood in the hours leading up to the photo session. Of course, the moment the camera was picked up, all the stress melted and I dropped into happy flow state. For a couple hours, I was rolling in sand, legs in the water, paintbrushes flying around furiously with passion, laughing, making silly faces as my paint covered fingers left patterns on my arm (yes, we did body painting), and the gorgeous sunset lit me up with gratitude. All the uncomfortable feelings drain away when I turn my attention to the simple pleasures of creation.

I feel full circle these days. The paintings I’m creating now aren’t too drastically different to the paintings I was making back home. They feel more evolved, deeper, richer, more wilde and more intentional at the same time. I’m still obsessed with painting rainbows and sunsets and now I suppose the paintings I’m making feel more alive to me because they are coming from my eyes instead of my imagination. I’m painting what I’m seeing before me each day. I’m painting the world that I’m living in, verses the world I wish I were in. The energy in that is completely different. My paintings feel less like fantasy and more like abstracted reality. They used to be my escape and now they are my call and response to the living universe, real, very real, in this moment. Instead of painting fantasies, I’m painting memories; memories I’m still living inside because they’re being created with every brushstroke.

These are the photos taken quickly on my iPhone. The professional photos will be delivered to me within the next couple weeks and I will share those on a separate blog post.

The drive home is always in the dark. I leave the beach at twilight and I sit in the backseat of the car and watch the world of scooters zoom by. Kids, dogs, baskets, barefoot old men, teenagers multitasking on their phones…the crazy sights are never ending. The streets are ripe with dangerous and fascinating situations. I feel most drawn to noticing the little kids who ride on the scooter, balancing between parents’ legs and dogs with their feet balanced on handlebars. I still love the carefree liberation of it all.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Exotic Treasures for My Beloved

All life is, is the universe living one dream after the other.

I saved the revered Tu Kab Khao thai restaurant in downtown Old Phuket for the celebration meal. Certificate in hand, I’m an advanced open water diver and I would like to eat some pumpkin curry, green mango salad and pad Thai pretty please. Oh, and a fresh young coconut to refresh the liquids in my body and a spoon to scrape out the meat for dessert!

I wandered the streets of Old Phuket for a few minutes. Morning matcha from Ryn and lunch from Tu Kab Khao mixing around in my belly, feeling a little dehydrated. It’s more challenging than I expected to stay full of water in Thailand. The two water bottles they set out for me in the hotel room each day are drunk in minutes and I’m constantly on the hunt for more. Do I seriously drink that much more than all the other humans? Am I the only one around here thirsty af? Lol I wander down the street, headed towards a pharmacy and then a little butterfly drew me into a deep dark shop. Two Thai ladies follow me around as I collect a little statue of a sea turtle, a sleeping cat, a mint green sarong, a pink artsy funky fashionable carry bag big enough to hold all my goodies and laptop when I travel by airplane. My eyes fall on a few treasures. My heart immediately desires to spend whatever the cost so I may send or carry these precious items home as gifts to the ones I love. Gift giving is a pleasure I feel deep in my torso, fluttering in my chest as I imagine the touch of love I can place on my beloved’s heart with a thoughtful something. “Here,” I imagine saying, “I traveled to the other side of the Earth and I have brought this home for you to enjoy. I could not have been further from you and yet I have never felt closer. I could not resist nor did I want to resist the urge I felt to pick up this beautiful treasure and bring it to your hands for your pleasure. Here my love, an exotic delight.”

“Only little things for yourself and big gift for him. That means something. That means he good man.” — said the shopkeeper.

love & rainbows,

Cha Wilde