Skip to main content

Brunch magic*

The magic of Brunch is that the right kind of magic shows up every single time. There are no formal invitations sent. There is no big planning or need for PR. This is just an open call and holding space for those who need some creative time wrapped in sacred togetherness.

There is never the same group around my kitchen table. Ever. And people who are familiar and who are meeting for the very first time come to the Island for a bit of sanctuary, and leave filled with kindness and kinship. The kind that only wild heart-space can create with busy hands, gorgeous food, and real conversation.

And magic moments like these seem to always happen too. The tiny instances where the wholeness of my life and what love it creates when passions are shared, stories are told, "me too's" are felt, and people get to really be seen and heard. Moments I cherish and cling to.

The beauty that happens is always a bit of a sweet surprise. It happens with ease and such deep contentment that sometimes I don't even realize what's becoming until I pause for a moment and take it all in.... the happy faces... the deep sighs.... the gazing at the ocean... the necessary nurturing. And I am abundantly grateful each and every time, to bear witness and to be able to offer what feels like such simple but profound grace.

And when my family comes home to the leftovers, roasted potatoes and homemade pumpkin bread, paint and glitter and bits of creativity gone wild, it nurtures us all over again. The fullness and blessings of our life.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Inner Alchemy Cards: Build A New World Deck

Our next make-your-own card adventure is finally here! Inner Alchemy Collage: Build A New World Deck (online) is an artful exploration of language, learning, inspiration, and collaboration, that delves into important ideas around activism and systems of oppression. This is a way for us to examine and disrupt harmful dominant narratives, tell new stories, and inspire one another to use our creativity and personal power to help build the collective world we all want to live in! In the end you will have a beautiful and meaningful handmade deck of 35 oracle cards to use as unique a tool for guidance and reflection whenever you need it.  I'm your host,  Mindy Tsonas Choi , an artist, organizer, radical belonging activist, and the founder of the Be Seen Project - a grassroots initiative resourcing BIPOC artist and makers working in activism. Join me along with other stellar artists, makers and co-creators who have also been exploring social justice and activism as part of their creativ

The Cost of Selling Belonging

As someone who use to sell belonging and believed I was creating something universally magical , I now have fresh eyes on the harm that I once caused. I understand what can (and was) incredibly healing and impactful for some, was at the same time excluding, marginalizing and undervaluing others. First, to anyone who ever felt like they did not belong to anything I created because they were unable to afford it or felt like they did not have the social capitol to join -  I am sincerely sorry for not seeing you sooner .   To our entire creative community as a whole, I urge us all to think about belonging in new and equitable ways, and to do the work of dismantling these hierarchical structures that leave so many people out of the circle. We all deserve to have access to creativity and belonging, and I'd go so far as to say both are fundamental basic human needs and rights. Selling belonging can look like... Creating spaces and experiences that can only be accessed by buying in at one,

what's in a name?

It’s May 14, 2020 and I’m on a transnational call with a social worker and translator of the SOS Children’s Village offices in South Korea. It’s 7pm my time and 9am the next day in Korea, which adds to the surreal quality of the moment. It is my first long distance call following my inquiry with the organization documented to be my first place of entry into the system, found in my Korean records (the acquisition of which is an incredible story in and of itself). It was July 21, 1972 and I was 5 months old. It’s a small miracle the organization still exists, and an even bigger blessing that they took such time and care in searching for information and to talk it all through with me in person. I try not to cry as the call connects. What I learn is a lot of small details about that fateful evening which amount to nothing traceable, but still feel like huge missing pieces of my life. I was left near the entrance around 7pm under a small tree, wrapped in a blanket with only a name scribble