Photographer. Graphic Designer. Yogi. Feat: CN Traveler, HuffPo, Guardian, Draft Mag. I drink your dairy-free milkshake. [email protected]
When you walk in to @gralehaus to grab a coffee and this little beauty is greeting you inside. @thejenrock makes my tummy happy.
In which everything is yoga: I was failing miserably this workout session. Inner Jess was thinking about the donor list she forgot to add to a design piece. She was telling me about how hard this workout was. That I couldn't do it. And then I saw a spot on the wall. And I stared. I made that spot my drishti and I breathed. Deeply in. Deeply out. In and out. In. Out. And suddenly this workout was doable. And before I knew it, it was done.
And so were my negative thoughts.
Special shoutout to my video bombs who had no idea I was taking a time lapse.
Part one of my wedding weekend marathon: a Bangladeshi cultural ceremony at home.
Pro-tip: when offered the choice of putting beer cheese on something. Do it. No questions asked.
As a fifteen year-old, I would collect Rolling Stone magazines and frame the covers and hang them on my wall. I read it religiously, and it was responsible for much of my 90s music knowledge.
Needless to say, seeing my name in the reserved spot I've seen many names before (wishing each time it was me having taken the photo for which the reserved spot was crediting) puts a smile on my face and I'm happy the image is an image I would have wished I had taken, had I not taken it.
I took a bunch of photos to choose one to post for today that summed up where I am lately. I ended up choosing this self portrait I took in the late summer last year for myself. It was at a point where I felt grounded, strong and comfortable in my own skin.
It was a dream realized, if not for a short moment in time.
I am a child of extremes. I am too patient. I am not patient enough. I work too much. I'm a sloth. I push myself too much physically. I'm a couch potato. I'm a social butterfly. I'm a hermit. I'm too emotional. I'm a robot.
I've lately felt completely uncomfortable with myself: physically, mentally, emotionally. I crave the return of that contentment yet again, but I've been sitting still and waiting for it to happen. This is one of those moments where I need to take the initiative for myself. So bring on the restful moments. Bring the ass-kicking from @barefit.life. Bring cocktails mixed with good conversation while still being intentional about what I am feeding my body.
Bring it all.
@mcbentleson made sure someone, or thing, was able to give me a hand, or claw, at this crawfish boil.
It's the holiday of my people. Celebrate accordingly.
The salad makes the peach basil tart healthy.
In an effort to try to learn balance, I've been working on giving myself 30 minutes a work day to get away from the computer and, if the weather allows, get outside and read part of the NYT Sunday paper. There is a shaded park close to my work where a mixture of professionals and homeless gather to enjoy the oasis within the concrete desert. It's somehow quiet despite the taxis honking and the construction banging across the street. For half an hour I am transported to a slower pace of life where written word and a steady breeze are soaked in. That small reprieve has done wonders for my psychological well-being. I return refreshed and clear-minded. Almost as if I had not been around a computer for hours just thirty minutes before.