Awake at 4am to Write Deeply with Cacao Before the Sunrise

Dear Friend,

I’m drinking orange, carrot and ginger juice this morning. It promises immunity and my running nose is begging for it. I am not sick. My nose runs a river of clear muscus from 4-8am apparently and I’ve sneezed a hundred times. Allergies? This happened before when I slept in this same hotel room. Perhaps the air filter in the AC contains dust that doesn’t agree with me. I’m moving to a new hotel across town today. In a few hours I’ll load up my way-to-many bags in Ary’s minivan and follow behind him on the scooter as we drive twenty minutes along the coast. I’m moving myself closer to the beach. My time in the rice paddies has grounded me and now my soul is peering over the trees to the horizon, searching for the ocean. 

The ocean is home to the sunrise. Saya suka matahari pagi ada di laut. I was awake before the sun today, at 5am with a pen in my hand and cacao on my tongue. Yesterday I began writing at 3:30am. The day before that the process started at 4am. There is magic in the madrugada that wants to be played with by us artists. I’m drinking the cacao every early morning to open my heart, enhance my creativity, increase my sensitivity to the deeper realms that are so eager to be expressed through me. It’s a medicine for the heart that wants to feel and connect. It’s effects are so subtle I don’t notice them kicking in. I simply start writing and the most profound truths dribble out of me and I say the things I really mean to say. After this dark morning solitude, I throw my laptop bag over my shoulder and walk the dirt path to the cafe. I sneezed as I passed by a farmer who was out with his machete wearing nothing but a t-shirt. Selamat pagi, and we laughed. 

I arrived at the cafe this morning as the offering was floating around the building.  My favorite baristas place flowers on the ground and brush water into the air, whispering prayers to the gods and demons. The scooters that zoom by noisily make my skin crawl with painful vibration. I hear them disappear down the road for miles, chased by the rising sun.

The orange, ginger, carrot juice is fresh and they just presented me with a smoothie bowl. I’m about to ingest avocado, spinach, lime, cranberries, coconut, granola and goodness…fuel for the healthy body I continue to invest in. It feels good to write on this blog after a month away. My life is jam packed full of words and long moments of silence. When the blog is neglected it is because I am exhausted from the pages of my private journal and the new pages in the book. I simply cannot bare to pull more words out for this website. I miss it gravely though as this blog has been a place where my reflections connect me to the world I’m exploring. I delight in sharing my journey with the people who take interest in it. So I celebrate with another sip of orange juice because today I made it to the blog and it feels amazing to write just like this. 

And to conclude, I’ll ponder aloud on one slightly deeper thought…

What is it like to have a project take over your life, to hand yourself over to new way of being? It’s a salvation from the disorientation of being spread thin. It’s a relief to wake up in the morning and know exactly where to pour my energy. It’s also sacrificial. So many passions I love embodying are culled, falling to the wayside with a goodbye wave and a maybe see you again sometime. So I refocus my eyes on the opportunities that come with going deeper and deeper into one deserving project. The reward is transformation and growth than cannot be forced but only received as a result of hard work being given wholeheartedly.

What beauty is all around you right now?
Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Gili Air Rainbows

I stuffed as many tubes of paint as I could squeeze into my dry bag. I sealed the wet color tightly shut because I didn’t want a repeat of last time. Last time, almost one year ago now, I boarded a fast boat that flew me across the channel between Bali and Nusa Lembogan. When I unpacked my bags on the other side, there was paint all over my clothing. To this day, you can still see a turquoise stain on my orange running shoes. The ocean also took away six of my freshly created paintings, the chakra series I made on the beach in Nusa Ceningan. This was a little disaster for the artist in me so I took special precautions this time as I traveled on the fast boat to Gili Air. The paint went inside the dry bag. The canvases were tucked tightly in the very very bottom of the bag, beneath everything else. I was still feeling rusty with color. I barely wanted to paint actually. My mind had been so deeply in the flow of words, writing a novel for months and months.

On the tiny island of Gili Air, just off the coast of the much larger Indonesian island of Lombok, I moved into a white cottage by the sea. I could see both the sun and the moon in the sky at the same time. A palm tree towered above my patio garden. Inside the white fence, I stripped down to naked skin and spread out six canvases. Now, I had a bag full of paint and I didn’t really know what to do with it. I dumped it out and organized the tubes into a rainbow. I can always rely on the rainbow.

Painting had always been a way for me to release pent up emotions but as I sat before the blank canvas I didn’t feel any. I was cleansing myself through written word and feeling rather purified and calm. I was at a loss for where to begin so I decided to just make a mess. I squirted red and pink paint on the top left canvas. Orange on the top middle and yellow on the top right. Then along the bottom row went the green, blue and purple. Each canvas started as one color and then quickly, I move the brush along from canvas to canvas, mixing and blending them so they each hold all of the colors. This is the beautiful thing about painting for me; sometimes it’s a huge emotional release and sometimes it’s just color play. I am reminded of my childhood playing with fingerpaints and Playdough. Not everything in life needs to be so serious. Even fingerpainting mess can be beautiful in the eyes of the beholder and worth the purchase from a fancy art collector. The art flows through us in many different ways. What took five messy minutes for the artist to birth might bring five hundred years of joy to the viewer. 

The second collection of images I created in Indonesia in 2023.
Originals and prints are available for sale in my online shop.
Studio members get to bid on paintings first.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Gili Air: Part 1

Seasick, homesick and outside the comfort zone. I leave behind my secret garden in Bali where I’ve been hiding away for a month…writing my novel in solitude, indulging in fragrant flowers by the pool. I pack my fins, paints, and Kindle and jump on the Golden Queen fast boat from Padang Bay to Gili Air. Gili Air…an island I walked around in 1.5hrs. No motorized vehicles, just feet, bicycles and horse drawn carts. No dogs allowed. Cats everywhere. No policemen. Quiet. I getaway adventure to refresh my creativity. I would very much like to share the experience with someone special. This is just another solo journey with all of myself.

I need a break from writing this book. This project is so intense for me. I needed an escape. No writing, not even journaling … that’s big for me. I write everyday… thousands and thousands of words. Gulp. Breaks are challenging when we are living with passion. Breaks are necessary. We must allow our genius to breathe fresh air. Space is medicine. I will think and read and do yoga and walk. I will watch the sun and moon. I will dove in the ocean and speak to the old turtles. I will start running again at sunrise and sunset. I will not write though….it’s only for a week.

At first it’s hard to stop writing. It’s one of my strongest habits. Then it gets easier as I feel the space open up around my day. Hours freed up for something other than words. I fill them with shopping for silver jewelry, smoothie bowls, yoga classes, teaching yoga on YouTube, reading Peter Pan and The Hobbit. The days take a long slow time. I get my feet massaged and I go scuba diving three times; once with turtles and baby sharks, once with seahorses and weird animals like juvenile yellow box fish and frog fish, and once at night with squid, octopus and giant eels that were spotted like giraffes!! These took courage for me. I caught a chilly cold and ear ache in the ocean too which put me in bed for a day or two…more reading and voice messages with friends around the timezones.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Writing a Novel Instead of Blogging

I started this blog many years ago to document my music journey. It’s evolved into a travel blog of late. My music journey has led me here…to the rice fields of Bali where I’m writing a fantasy novel. This novel becomes more musical by the page. I’m writing about my life, memories of this musical journey I’ve been called into and sailing and struggling through.

I haven’t written on the blog in over a month though. The thought of writing a blog post has been exhausting, just the thought…because I’m also writing by hand in my journal each morning to process my private thoughts and emotions and then I’m committed to writing at least 2,500 words in the novel. Too many words if I also blog and write social media captions and send messages.

Each place I write holds a different energy and brings out a different voice. I used this blog to practice writing for the public, to publish something to be seen and felt by others. I was nervous at first to share my poetic words, romantic ideas, personal perspectives. It was vulnerable to share words as art for all to see but I also had a life long dream of writing a book. A blog was a gentle place to begin sharing my writing, to prepare the soil of my soul for the book ahead.

I committed to writing a daily blog post when I began traveling in September 2022. It was the thread that tied my adventures together into a journey I could share with the world. The internet was often failing to upload my videos, photos and livestreams but I could almost always find time and bandwidth to post words. It reminded me of COVID. The pressure is on and what is essential remains. Videos were too big. Photos were too cluttered. Words were easy to travel with and spread around the world. A deeper way to share my memories as well. Details I would have forgotten already have been preserved in my blog posts.

I’m finally writing the book now though and the blog has become intermittent and sometimes neglected. This saddens me but I console myself…the blog has done its job. It delivered me to the doorstep of the book project. I would love to write more here and particularly in this blogging writing style I’ve developed. I find it soothing. For now, please know I am focusing intentionally on the book, I’ll happily share here when I can, and who knows what the future holds? Once the book is finished in spring of 2024, the blogging may be daily again as I’m sure I’ll need somewhere to express myself in writing.

Today, I’m in Bali on my way to visit my friend Kiori and the potato head beach club. The weather is warm and clear, strong winds and uplifting smiles all around town. I’m eating a fresh banana chocolate smoothie bowl and drinking beetroot juice. I’ve got way too many bags as usual…full of art supplies and equipment. My personal items are small compared to the art stuff. This traveling artist gig does require henchmen.

I have genius and dreams floating around my head. Reading inspirational books to grow as a business woman and an author. I’m teaching yoga to my studio members and demonstrating yoga flows on YouTube most days of the week to keep my body moving in connection with other humans. I’m deeply looking forward to the future and enjoy the present moment at the same time. The past is leaving me alone as I’ve been writing about it routinely. Sending you love and a reminder that life is good when you focus on your blessings.

Love & Rainbows,

Cha Wilde

Bunga Laut Collection

I hadn’t played with paint in six months. I was practicing focus. I focused on writing music and writing a novel. No painting. It physically hurt, in the chest, the heart, aching to not touch paint. I dreamed of walking into the art supply story. When June arrived, I reached my finish line and finally, in disbelief, walked down the aisles of colorful tubes. I hauled a giant roll of canvas three hours across the island. I spread out a sarong on the floor of my balcony. In the only shady spot I could find, I cracked open color and spread it around. My fingers had been longing to touch the cool acrylic paint for months and finally, I was covered it. It was all over my knees and the floor. My subconscious expressed its gatherings. I had been living amongst tropical coral reefs, reading beside the turquoise pool surrounded by bouganvilleas.

These paintings will be for sale in my online shop as originals and Gilcee prints.
Studio members get first dibs on new paintings.

The two paintings below were the palettes used in the making of this collection; the canvases where I prepared the paint, emptied the brushes and swirled around globes of excess paint. These are the byproduct pieces of this collection. The wild unplanned nature of the palettes usually appeals to me. The byproducts of my artwork — palettes, brush handles, dropcloths, paint splatter on my clothing and legs etc… is a joy. While I’m focused on one work, life is making a pretty mess elsewhere that I get to realize and appreciate later. Everything we do leaves footprints and surprises elsewhere. 

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

3am Markets in Bali

Where I live right now there are no supermarkets. There are real markets with chickens flapping around. There are women squatting on their ankles, waving a stick to keep flies away from the seven dead fish that just got pulled out of the ocean and are now laying on a piece of cardboard on the side of the road, waiting for someone to buy them. There are bowls of spice on the floor, right next to the dirt and strings of plastic packaged spices hanging from a bamboo pole.

Buying in bulk isn’t a thing. For many people, the concept of bulk simply doesn’t compute. They see the small package is less expensive than the big box. They buy the cheaper small package. Despite efforts to explain, they won’t be convinced that they actually save money by spending more up front. Doesn’t make sense to them. So the thousands of small plastic saches of spice dangle in most shop windows and market stalls.

Moving on…there’s a pile of mini square fried grass baskets that will hold the hundreds of thousands of offerings that will be made to the gods today…and everyday. There are piles of fresh colorful fruit you couldn’t name and full hands of bananas turning brown. There are clusters of women shuffling around each other reach and shoving things bags.

The market opens at 3am. All this commotion takes place before the sunrise. There are no tourists here, no trinkets or souvenirs. It’s not a night market full of tasty street food. This is the farmers market selling to the local restaurants and cafes. There’s a pipelines of trading through the villages. Merchants go shopping at the larger market before they open their local shops. Small markets collect from bigger markets. Still…. I see no supermarkets; no deliver trucks unloading at 3am. No florescent light shining on rotting imported fruit, just moonlight shining on freshly picked fruit…often picked by the very hands that will take your money.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Immigration, Paint & Mangos

I recognize the turns in the road, the shops and the rice paddies. I’ve ridden in the backseat of Ary’s van too many times to count now. He’s always one text message away, ready to take me to the airport or anywhere on the island I desire. When I need a vehicle larger than my scooter, Ary is the man. Today he picked me up at 4:45am so we could make it to the immigration office before it opened at 8am. We drove in the dark until the sun joined us at 6am. It’s the same everyday in Bali; sunrise around 6am and sunset around 6pm. Those of us living near the equator are balanced with rhythm of the sun on a very regular routine. I find it very stabilizing, a compliment to my wild feminine chaotic energy that explodes creatively all over the world. I need routine and regularity. This is just one of the many things I value, no cherish, about my time spent in Hawaii and Bali. After leaving Hawaii, the number one thing I missed (and I missed it everyday with very little fail) was the daily ritual of being present for sunset. I distinctly remember feelings like the whole island paused together for a peaceful moment when the sun slipped away. I was twenty five when the sunset struck me in this magnificent way. I felt how it stopped humans to unite in a moment of profound silence and beauty. Years later, somewhat unconsciously I began painting sunsets. Years later after that, I very consciously moved my ass back to the land of regular communally cherished sunsets. It’s too precious to miss. The sunrise and the sunset is the homecoming and goodnight kiss for our life giver!

I hopped out of the car at the Denpasar Immigration Office at 7:19am. I was eleventh in line. I wrapped myself in my turquoise robe. Your whole body has to be covered in official government buildings. They’ll let you borrow a sarong if you show up with too much skin exposed. Not my problem today! By the time the doors opened and I grabbed my paper ticket that had the number eleven printed on it. I felt so happy I wasn’t the person pulling the two hundredth ticket. They’re spending their entire morning in the waiting room. I was out of there in twenty minutes!!! Photo of my face. Fingerprints delivered to the Indonesian government. Visa extended! I get to stay for a couple more months on The Island of the Gods in the world’s largest archipelago!

“Where you want me take you now?”

“The Bali Art Supplies Store in Denpasar, please. Thanks Ary.”

“You’re welcome.”

We drive in silence through the bumper to bumper scooter traffic until I see my favorite shop in Bali. The art supply store is probably my favorite shop anywhere I go. A room full of colors and textures that jump off the shelves into my basket, begging for me to play with them. Heaven. I felt nostalgic today. I remembered my first visit here on my third day in Bali back in September 2022. I didn’t know if I’d find the place and when I did, I spent over an hour wandering around acquainting myself with the new brands and available products in a new country. It takes a little while to find one’s way around a new store. I’ve changed so much since that first visit. My art style, the projects I’m focusing on, the relationships I’m growing, my fashion sense…change has occurred and this shop held up a mirror for me today. I spent all the money today on all the prettiest colors of acrylic paint; I tried to pick the ones that capture the colors I love with in Bali and see under the ocean. Darn… I forgot to by fluorescent metallic colors. I needed those for the fish! I also bought canvas. I’m looking forward to the moment I smear paint with my fingers. I’ve been patiently waiting for six months. I haven’t painted since December because I was choosing, intentionally, to focus my energy on producing new music which will be released later this year (Mermaid Prayers album is on the way!) and I launched a new epic projects… writing my first book, a mermaid fantasy novel. Painting had to wait but now that summer is here and I’ve made the necessary progress on my writing project (we’ve got the necessary momentum now — flying at cruising altitude), I get to open up a little space to play with colors again!! I also made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t create another painting until my online print shop was officially up and running…. Which it is!!!!! You can now purchase my paintings and prints here on my website. More will be added moving forward! Woohooo!! Gimme that paint!!!!

Rest. This is how I’ll spend the rest of today. I did a canon ball into the pool and devoured a juicy mango. I’m sunbathing with my Kindle…I’m on the third book of the Twilight Saga. It’s fueling the dramatic romance energy in my novel. Teenage angst helps me remember to sprinkle in a little drama. Haha I’m very excited for my dinner. Tonight I’ll be eating a vegan tofu poke bowl. I LOVE sticky jasmine rice these days and locally brewed Kiamboy Kombucha. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be taking my brand new freediving fins into the ocean for the first time. I have a freediving coaching session at 9am. Hopefully, I’ll sleep well tonight.

Love & Rainbows,

Cha🍍Wilde

Foot Massage Poetry

I wait on my scooter for the traffic to pass. Delays are unusual on this small town road. Today, I see a caravan of scooters headed to a ceremony, a large family traveling through town in lace and white headbands, children on the laps of aunties and the young men in their stylish shirts. I’m on my way to get a foot massage. I love the ladies at this small spa who never stop smiling. They bring me sweet ginger tea. I sit in throne in the middle of a tropical garden, water fall to my left and the blue sky above. I sat here months ago when the rain poured. Dry beneath the gazebo, the lovely ladies rub the soles of my feet and I drift off into simple pleasure. The more I relax, the more good ideas flow to me. I lift my phone from my purse and type a few notes before the massage pulls me under again…

I write songs, blog posts and journals. I am writing my first novel. 
I’m traveling to beautiful places that make my spirit feel open.
I want something new, to be whisked away.
My life is perfect and it’s boring me.
I’m healthy and in control, stable, and I want a thrill. I feel stuck. 
I want to socialize and I want to be alone.
I want to be outside and I want to nap inside. 
I want to work and I don’t.
I want to go home and I don’t.
I want to perform and Im tried of performing. 
I want to try something new and I want to embrace my essential routine.
I want to know where all of this is leading.
I guess I’m living in the unknown right now. So be it. I can hold myself here a while long. 
What cacoon or pressure cooker am I in? 
What have I prayed for that’s being answered now? 
What contrast will I welcome in next? 
I need to be small and very simple. 
I want my sweet nature returned to me. It’s the only thing worth living for.
I want my community and I want to lead it again.
I want to be home, the safe haven. 
I feel the rumbles of financial stress under me again, subtle but present. 
I feel the secure base that my husband is.
I wonder if he’ll ever be a safe haven.
Will I find that elsewhere ever again? 
I want the cozy sense of home. Is that too much to ask? And a little adventure on demand. 
I’m tired of trying to replicate what worked before.
I’m on to something new now.
Whatever I did before, I’ve outgrown it.
I need to lighten my load of materials and the long tasks I’ve carried on my list.
I have to surrender something, the striving. I have to be so small. 
What is essential? 
I’m feeling the sacrifice. I can always do something later. 
What would make this fun for you? 

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

AI Art for Novel Illustration: My Inner Child is Obsessed

It’s been such a long time since I spent a day like this. I remember these days occurring often as a child, says that swallowed me up and I swam deep through those days happily with no regard for a clock, a worry, a responsibility, or any urge to get onto the next thing. This day, like those days, was spent mainly laying in bed. No guilt for laying in bed. The bed was irrelevant compared to the joyful adventures I was having in my head. I could lay in bed or by the pool, ride a train or swim in the sea…twoood not matter! Today was one of the days of my life dedicated to imagination and creation! I left my body for hours and hours on end to play with colors and obsessively draw up images to being the imagination into this reality. I was watching my ideas come to life! Like a day in a deliver room where time means nothing and the air is sacred…a bubble in time to play!

BEAUTIFUL BRUNETTE WOMAN IN CROCHET TOP AND DAISY DUKES READING KINDLE AND DRINKING MINT TEA SITTING ON CUSHIONS IN A CAFE IN BALI WITH THATCH ROOF NEAR VOLCANO AT SUNSET

I began illustrations for my novel today!! Both sound and visual illustrations. I produced the sounds myself in Ableton. I began playing with AI digital art for the pictures. I’m obsessed. My fantasy world is coming to more of my senses and I’m tingling and squeezing with delight in my bedroom, alone in Bali…on my little artist retreat, away from the noisy world…just me diving deeper and deeper into my memories and fantasies.  It’s soooo pretty and exciting inside my head! I can’t wait to share what I’ve seen and heard!

For the AI art, I’m playing with an app on my phone called “Imagine” that is $6.99/week. It’s well worth the money for me right now as it’s flooding me with fun and inspiration. I LOVE that I can describe a scene in my book and suddenly see it come to life. I can describe a moment in my day and voila…here’s an illustration. It’s almost like having my own personal photographer, after the fact, and hyper-artistic. Since the AI generates an unlimited number of variations, I can easily get lost in hitting the “refresh” button. —- Prepare yourself, I might start illustrating my blog as well as my book. It’s just TOO MUCH FUN. Try it for yourself. It’s instant gratification…WAY more fun than Instagram by a long shot. Nothing but endorphins…at least if you’re a highly visual human who loves writing and pretty pictures like me. —- There are many styles to play with. I prefer vibrant colorful 3D art styles. It’s hard to choose because every art style has something so beautiful to offer us. It’s fun to try your same description represented in different styles…You have to use your intuition, the reaction in your gut to know which one is for you…if you have to choose. On this particular app (Imagine), I gravitate towards Candyland, Painting, Studio Ghibli, Landscape, Glass Art.  

I could get so lost in here for hours and hours though…pure curiosity to see what my life and my story look like in different art styles. Change the art style, completely change the feeling, the mood. The art styles are lenses through which we view the world. What do you want yours to look like / feel like? It’s a beautiful exercise for self-reflection and self-identification. How do you (and all the different parts of you) want to be represented visually? Also interesting… different art styles are appropriate for different projects or places. The AI art style that’s perfect for my upcoming novel may be a different style than the AI art I use for my next music album which is totally different than the AI art I use to illustrate these blog posts. Or maybe eventually, I’ll use the same art for EVERYTHING. Do you feel how much fun this can be? You can use AI for your Instagram account, your profile photo, postcards to beloveds, a daily journal instead of or in addition to your writing, as a little gift or a label for a gift, for your family holiday photo, fridge magnets. Keep the ideas rolling in!

BEAUTIFUL BRUNETTE WOMAN DRINKING BUTTERFLY BLUE TEA TURQUOISE POOL BOUGAINVILLE BALI

I finally made my way to the pool for the last rays of sunshine. The birds are singing and I really wouldn’t mind if the pool generator switched off. The buzzing is detracting from the ambiance but not my mood. My teabag from the morning is hanging on the willow tree branch…so that’s where it went! Haha I wondered. I’m drinking blue Butterfly Pea Flower tea now — Google it, the results are very sexual. ;)

My hair is longer. I can feel it and it looks different in the mirror. Just realizing today. I love how fast I grow in tropical weather. I’m very excited for my dinner this evening….feed me more rice pretty please! I feel so blessed today that my greatest dilemma is whether to read Twilight, to read Oscar Wilde, to write the new Cha Wilde novel, to produce new Cha Wilde music, or to continue generating AI illustrations for Cha Wilde’s fantasy world. Shall I dip into my imagination or someone else’s? At some point I’ll have to sleep…darn it.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha🍍Wilde

BALI RICE PADDIES MT AGUNG SUNSET BONFIRES ON SIDE OF ROAD

Digging Dramatically into the Past to Write a Fantasy Book

Pour me another cup of green tea. The air is too hot to sit comfortably. The ink on my journal page smears as I wipe away the drop of tea that just jumped out of the pot. I moved my body in the open jungle gym this morning, lifting weights with a view of the Bali Sea. The open ocean hasn’t spoken to me in weeks. She’s over there. I visit occasionally but mostly I’ve stayed in the garden listening to the birds. I need dirt and grass right now. My emotions need earthy stability for a while as I husband and wife this book. I’m discovering the story as it pours through me.

Do I sound melodramatic if I tell you that this book is a goodbye to my past? I’m indulging in the past, swimming through it like a gorgeous coral garden admiring my memories. I’m chewing through it like a box of chocolates. (I haven’t eaten chocolate in over a month and I’m on day 47 without coffee. Celebrating and craving. Keeping my body as clean as possible. It’s the pipe through which this creative water is flowing.)

I’m crying on the video call with my husband today. He’s sensitive and logical. As usual, a young part of me wants to feel special. She wants to be the center of everyone’s world. “Miss me more!” She cries. “I do miss you,” he says. “But I don’t let myself dwell on it. I could have spent the weekend crying about the fact you weren’t here. I could have compared everyone to else to you. I would have been miserable. When those type of thoughts came up, I said NO. I didn’t let myself go there. I feel I’m in a new chapter. Moving forward. Enjoying the present. I had a really fun weekend.”

He’s leading me in the right direction. I want to move forward too. My parts glare at me, wondering why we’re digging in the past, fixating on old feelings, pouring our precious life energy into this resurrection project. “Just let it go!” They plead with me wondering when I’ll take them to the art supply store to buy paint or diving out there in the ocean a little bit deeper than before. “Let’s get back to making music and performing. You love performing and teaching! Let’s get back to hosting dinner parties!” I’m listening. I comfort them and promise them we will dance merrily in the present moment, celebrating life in all these lovely ways. We are in the present as I write this book. I have boundaries. We dip into the past to suck out a memory that we weave into this storybook. Then we return to the turquoise pool and smell the plumeria flower that just fell in my lap.

My writing coach encourages me to collaborate with my parts in these moments. Ask the parts of me who are afraid of dwelling in the past how we can write in a way that helps them move forward. How do we use the magic of creativity to help us safely enter the past, harvest it for inspiration, process whatever has been stuck back there, whatevers got us hooked like fabric caught on a twig as we walk through the forest, and then move forward to create something new. We create something new FROM the past. We move forward FROM the past. It’s not something to be pushed away, run away from, or ignored. As a first time novelista, I’m learning to turn and face my past and extend my hand to it kindly, inviting the lessons, wisdom and happy memories to step forward with me. To the pain and unpleasantness back there, I can let them scream one more time on the page, giving those exiled parts a chance for their voices to be heard and honored, so they can be unburdened with truth and choose to join us in the present or fall peacefully in death. Oh, here’s the drama leeking out again. Hard to stop once I start. 

I’m laughing with the barista who tells me he loves me. A piece of his heart belongs to me. He’s a flirt. He says that to all the girls he pours coffee for. I wish he was pouring a coffee for me. Just hot water over those tea leaves for now, please and thank you.

My only job right now is to heal; to move, listen and write. I’m clearing the cobwebs from my past so I can move on even more grounded in my body, fully present than before. Imagine trying to move into a new home without emptying your old one. I have some skeletons in my closets and shit stuffed under the rug. Yes, painting and playing in the ocean today is appealing but there are chores to be done in my inner house. I warned you I was indulging in melodrama, diving into the psyche more often than the ocean. Needless to say, I’m also practicing balance. I take days away from the writing to be right here and now, to not think about anywhere else I’d rather be. I am somewhere over a rainbow these days, hunting for gold. One day, I’ll return home with a book in my hands.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Turquoise Water: The Perfect Tropical Color

I can’t get over the shade of blue that fills this pool beside my bungalow. It’s the most perfect color, made only more perfect as it ripples like textured glass beside the most vibrant flowers catching the sun in their most perfect shade of hot pink. (The photos DO NOT do it justice…not even close).

The colors in the world around me are perfect. I’m sensitive to color. Sometimes, I’m amazed by the contentment I sit in as I stare into a color. I feel joy when I stare into the tropical colors, the ones that come out to play in warm places. As a teenager, I decorated my bedroom with these colors, packing them in on top of each other in thick layers. I surrounded myself with a rainbow while the world outside my window was mainly forest green and grey blue. A child of the Pacific Northwest, I grew up on fresh air and pure water. Health and adventure was in the air outside and dreams of turquoise blue, sunshine orange and hot pink flowers filled me on this inside.

I was sixteen the first time I laid eyes on the tropical world. (Pictures hadn’t done it justice either.) I stepped off the airplane in Hawaii (which granted is sub-tropics but still more tropical than rural Seattle), and inhaled the plumeria air. I was sold for what seems to be life. Driving on a freeway through jungled mountains, I fell in love. I never wanted to leave. The thought of my limited time on the island was too cruel to think. I promised myself I would come back. I prayed I’d find a way to live amongst the most beautiful colors for longer than just a two week vacation. Just because I grew up in a grey cloud didn’t mean I had to stay there forever. I prayed the volcanic islands would welcome me and let me feel at home amongst them. I have many more volcanic islands to explore. For now, at this for this summer, Bali has me hooked. Life is gentle here.

Morning is usually my favorite time of day, it always has been. After my long walk, jumping jacks and downward dogs, I take my Kindle to the pool. I float in water and try to describe in worlds the ecstasy I feel when my body is submerged in water. Today, I’d describe it as Jell-O. I’m swimming through light blue Jell-O. What a divine and funny sensation!

This turquoise blue Jell-O holds me suspended. I let my limbs dangle below me, limp. How heavy can I be in water? No matter how much I let go, I still float. I hold me breath and imagine I’m inside my mother’s womb. This is probably exactly how it felt. With water in my ears, the rest of the world out there is out there. I’m weightless and worry-less, surrendered and held. This is delicious medicine.

And did I mention the color? I rest my eyes on this turquoise water and whatever was troubling me before evaporates. I’m just here absorbing a daily dose of tropical color therapy. I wait until my mind is quiet and my body is glowing warmth from within. I eat a couple eggs and a fruit salad. I walk into my bungalow, sit at my desk, and begin my work. Today, I continue writing this fantasy novel. Perhaps, I’ll make the ocean turned the perfect shade of turquoise.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha 🍍 Wilde

Bali Rice Farmers Inspire Me to Keep Writing

Watermelon, papaya, pineapple and lime. There is no variety on my complimentary fruit plate. It’s the same every morning for my breakfast. I squeeze the lime over the juicy sweet slices of tropical color. I stab those bites of moist flavor with a small silver fork and witness how they crunch, squish, dissolved and splash inside my mouth. Same almost every morning and I’m starting to love it. At first I wondered why the kitchen staff didn’t bring in the occasional dragonfruit or mango. Why not peel an orange or plop down some red grapes. Routine is everything at this resort for one. I’m the only guest here most of the time. I’m having fun pretending this is my very own private Hollywood mansion with a groundskeeper and full cleaning and cooking staff. I wake up in my big white bed to admire the fire orange sun rising behind the black palm tree silhouettes. By the pool I inhale the plumerias and indulge my sense of touch in the cool water. Same every luxurious day. I am creating a strong comfortable bubble, a routine that I glide through effortlessly. I’m carving a groove, an energetic riverbed in my existence, through which inspired words can flow and rush with enthusiasm. My sleep is deep and dreamy again, never without vivid fantasy and adventure, romance and tension. I wake up each morning from a wild imagination and continue on.

I’ve made friends with a dog named Pheobe who walks with me through the rice paddies at sunrise. She’s happy to see me. I’m happy to see her. The rest of the dogs can fuck off. They annoy the hell out of me with their sharp barking and I feel only the tiniest sliver of compassion for their furry souls. I wish they would be quiet. I’m sure they have similar feelings towards me. They wish I wouldn’t trod across their land each morning, an American rainbow in offensively bright orange shoes, invading their quiet farmer’s field. I usually walk in silence but sometimes I jabber away on my phone sending voice messages to Rae who is listening as she walks her dog through the much more expensive streets of Barcelona.

Hours in the cafe, feet curled beneath me, a homemade coconut chocolate “Bounty Ball” melting on my tongue, and now 115,000 words written in my book. The story is evolving and it’s a messy. If it were written on paper, the the white scribbled sheets would be all over the floor in random stacks, pinned to the wall, crumbled in the bin, and shoved under books. The worst pages would be paper spit ball globs drying on the ceiling, long ago destroyed in my frustrated fingers and thrown back to the gods! Thankfully, I get to take advantage of modern technology. I’m organizing my book on my laptop in a program called “Scrivener”. I can easily slide documents around each other until they’re in linear order. The trash bin doesn’t have to be carried outside. I just click it and voila! Empty! Always a nervous moment though. No take-backsies.

I haven’t drunk coffee in over forty days now. I feel like I’m in Alcoholics Anonymous. Day by day I keep choosing green tea and when I smile in the mirror my teeth are sparkling white again. Above all, it’s my vanity that motivates me. I love looking pretty, sparkling with health. Guilty and glowing again! I notice how much more energy I have in the day without drinking coffee. That’s another bonus. I count the days because it’s far too easy to find an excuse to just have a sip of that comforting beverage and everyone is an enabler. I fantasize about writing songs, writing this novel, with a coffee by my side. It’s such a romantic way of life…the writer with her coffee. I grieve a little and sip the green tea which has a charm of its own; less cozy, more refined. I call in some geisha spirits to help me sit up straighter and enjoy the green tea with Japanese elegance.

The rice paddies are disappearing. One by one the farmers move on to the next patch, leaving behind them a yellow, cut down, square. Harvesting season is well on the way now. I’m curious to see what the next phase looks like, to see the next batch of life spring up. The rice farmers remind me of what hard work really looks like. Most of them don’t look up as I walk by. I try not to stare too intensely at them, respectfully observing. I can’t help my fascination though. They’re showing me through the work of their hands what it looks like to get up with the sun and get to it. I walk, stretch, squat, squish fruit in my mouth, sip green tea, pick up my black inky pen and get to it.

Love & Rainbows, Cha🍍Wilde