Awakening in Beijing

Introduction – A Memory Rekindled

I remember the conversation clearly—even now, 17 years later. I was driving through Tallahassee traffic one afternoon after classes at the university, and I called up my parents to propose a wild idea I had and how it was just perfect: I was going to travel to China that summer and do an internship in Beijing for a couple of months, and that would count toward my graduation requirement. On the other end of the line, I was met with a supportive line of questioning and, ultimately, their full support for my plans to travel to China alone that summer—even though it would be my first trip outside of my home country. I was ready.

It wasn’t until 17 years later—very recently, during a casual conversation with my mom—that I learned they were terrified. They didn’t want to hold me back, but they thought I had lost my mind. And yet they knew, equally well, that I would have to go through with it. My mind was already made up.

This was the start of something far bigger than I could have imagined. It wasn’t just a trip to China—it was the opening of the first portal that would both transform me and exhilarate me all at once. It was a rush I would chase for the rest of my days. A crossing of the threshold that was soul-deep and layered across dimensions.

The Call to Go

China was an interesting choice for me. I wasn’t particularly drawn to it for any specific reason other than that it felt like the furthest immersive experience I could possibly have from my own world at the time. I simply wanted to experience another place—another realm—vastly different from my own. I think that younger version of me needed to prove something to herself: If she could travel to and live in China alone, she could do anything she set her heart to. So, she set out on the journey—just to prove that she could.

First Impressions

Arriving in China felt like a dream—a very lucid dream that I slow-walked through for the first several days. I was jet-lagged, with lost luggage, and immediately confronted with a whole new world as soon as I stepped off the plane. I met a kind older man who worked at Hutong School—where I would be taking Mandarin language classes—and he shuttled me to my shared apartment in the center of Beijing, on a street called Dongzhimen Nei Dajie. I was quickly given the apartment tour and instructions, and then we walked to the local police station so I could register as a foreigner.

I found out during that first week that I had arrived during a holiday in China, so I did what any true adventurer would do: I set out to get lost.

I remember thinking, this must be what it feels like to kids on their first Disney adventure. It was a whole new world. In that first week, I discovered that getting lost for a few hours and then hopping in a taxi back home was my new favorite hobby. I learned that street food was sketchy but delicious, that newspapers were posted on public street signs, and that if you got up early enough, you could catch many folks in their pajamas reading the news and chatting on the sidewalks. I also quickly learned that a girl with light hair and light eyes was something of an oddity—and would be stared at.

Over time, I traveled with others I met through the language school. We explored Sanya in the south of China, and we ventured to tiny villages so far removed from the city that the children had never seen a face as “long” as mine. Each weekend introduced me to the majestic, lesser-seen side of China—the part full of ancient beauty and soul-stirring wonder.

Key Moments of the Journey

My language classes were well worth the effort. I was able to navigate simple conversations with locals, taxi drivers, restaurant staff, and market vendors.

One of my favorite places to practice Mandarin was a local clothing market. I had a couple of dresses in mind that I wanted made, and after presenting my drawings, they took my measurements and helped me select fabrics. I returned almost every other day—ostensibly to check on the dresses, but really to chat with the vendors and immerse myself in the rhythm of the market.

One day, a friend I had made there asked me if I’d return that afternoon—her boss was coming, and they needed people to appear in a photoshoot for his new restaurant. This was in May, just before the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics. There was a huge effort across the city to clean up, build anew, and promote businesses for the influx of foreigners. And apparently, I was being asked to be part of it.

Now, looking back—especially through the lens of a mother—I cringe at the thought of younger me being recruited by a market acquaintance, hopping into a stranger’s car, going to an unknown location, with no one knowing where I was…all to do a photoshoot. It sounds like the beginning of a bad horror film. But I am, and always have been, protected in this lifetime. My spirit team has had their work cut out for them. I thank them for their diligence.

Another significant memory of my time in China was the time I truly thought I might not make it out of China alive. I visited an older part of the Great Wall with my Dutch roommate, Anouk—who, impressively, always wore heels, even to the Great Wall. We decided to take the sky rail for a better view. The cart was like a ski lift: a seat with a thin bar in front and a slightly thicker rail connecting us to the overhead cable. Halfway through, the wind began to howl. Our cart swayed violently. The ride paused midair. We sat in silence, both too afraid to name the obvious. I remember looking past Anouk’s heels and thinking, At least it would be quick—a sure death on those rocks. No suffering.

Somehow, we made it out of that pickle—quietly thankful and infinitely more cautious.

On a lighter note, a fond memory of mine from Beijing was from a cultural gathering I attended. Every once in a while, students at the language school would host a “Culture Night”—an evening of food, drinks, and storytelling from our diverse backgrounds. I still don’t know what compelled me to represent the United States by bringing a pan of Beanie Weenies, but I did. And, to no one’s surprise, it was a huge hit. To this day, that still makes me laugh.

Inner Shifts

By the end of my journey in China, I was addicted to the thrill of discovery. I wasn’t ready to let it go. I cried when I had to leave. I cried when I got home. I didn’t cry because it was hard or because I missed my life back home—I cried because something deep inside me had awakened. I realized then that I would have to let go of everything I had built back home in order to follow whatever it was that stirred my soul while I wandered the streets of Beijing.

China was a wake-up call. A moment of destiny wrapped in fearless, soul-led adventure. A reminder to follow the inner guide. Not long after, I was already booked for my next adventure: a summer studying and traveling in Costa Rica.

Reflections from Now

My life did, indeed, shift completely as a result of walking through the threshold that was China—a portal disguised as a plane ticket. It was an opening, an invitation, a remembrance of my deeper mission here. China was the beginning of the weaving of the golden thread that guides my path through this realm.

Each place I visit, I weave this golden thread—integrating its offerings, its lessons, its sacredness. As the Traveling Mystic I have become, I honor my first true calling—China, the journey that jolted me awake.

What journey have you taken that stirred your soul?

Every soul has its awakening moment.

Where did yours begin?

From Catalyst to Expansion: The Art of Healing Through Creation

Introduction: The Catalyst

It was both a gradual remembering and a moment of sudden, direct impact—each with its own purpose.

The slow awakening came in glimpses throughout childhood, in moments when I knew that creation was far grander than this beautiful little planet and its lovely inhabitants. It showed up again in my teenage years, when I struggled to feel truly connected to those around me. It wove through a lifetime of quiet knowings and strong feelings that I didn’t yet realize were unique.

Then came a pivotal moment in my journey, a divine pause. A sudden halt from auto-pilot to emergency brake. At first, it was deeply unsettling—a liminal space without structure or reason. But then, in the quiet, something began to shift. I began to listen. At first, to everything around me—and none of it made sense. I had been so busy staying busy, I hadn’t noticed how disconnected I had become from meaning. So I turned inward. And I began to truly awaken.

The Pause: Introspection

The inward turn brought me to long stretches of silence. Just me, sitting quietly and listening. This pull to solitude became sacred—a place I protected fiercely. Because, at first, my awakening wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy, filled with difficult realizations, uncomfortable truths, and the crumbling of old identities.

My listening sessions—what you might call meditations—eventually softened. With time and intention, they became gentler, more spacious. I learned to see and feel what was in alignment with my true path, and release what was not.

Healing Through Creation

Creation is a powerful magnet on the healing path. I picked up my old brushes and began to paint—softly at first, then with increasing joy and peace. One day, I noticed myself singing and humming again. The same sounds I now weave into my art and offerings—frequency encoded with intention—once stitched me back together, piece by piece.

Expansion: A New Way of Being

This is a new way of being. Living with intention. Choosing your own rhythm. Walking the path where you are truly you. Authentically, unapologetically. Sometimes, this means people fall away. But it also means that those aligned with your frequency are drawn closer—to this version of you who feels expansion in your being, who lives from embodied compassion, and who allows love for self and others to flow across all dimensions.

Closing: An Invitation to Others

I am you, and you are me. We are mirrors for one another. If this website, my art, or these stories resonate with you, perhaps my journey reflects your own desire to explore the healing path through creation. So I invite you to ask yourself:

What do your hands and your heart want to create in order to heal—or perhaps, because of it?

The Frequency of the Color Black

The Frequency of the Color Black 

My artwork carries a clear theme – one of boldness and beauty, potency and potential. This shared theme is the color upon which I weave sound frequency into material frequency. It’s the color black. My pull towards black was entirely intuitive.

In the beginning, I created with a plethora of color, a palette of shades and shadows meant to mix and match, and bring life to once-forgotten objects and panels. As I explored within the realm of frequency, the draw toward black became magnetic. It was chosen before there was an option. It was purchased in bulk and I never looked back—there was no need. The message was clearer than ever.   

The Color Black as a Portal

When I paint with black, a portal is opened. It’s a portal through which channeled frequency is brought through and weaved into pieces to either tune or activate the frequencies already present in the object or panel. It is through this portal that the artwork is encoded and through this portal that the ones who view the artwork and resonate with it, connect into it. Once the portal is opened, it remains so… When a piece of art is purchased, the portal is passed on to the one it calls to and works with the energy of that person in the way the person chooses.  

An Invitation Between the Realms

When I paint with black, I feel an immediate and powerful shift in my energy field. A portal begins to softly open with every brush stroke. With each line and layer of black, I dive deeper into a trance-state until I am more outside of this realm than inside. Holding on by a tiny, rogue hair out of place on the paintbrush in my hand. I stay locked in this trance as the creative process unfolds and unwinds – it’s during this process I channel my Higher Self and begin to sing and hum sound frequency into my artwork. The creative unfolding, the connection with color, the frequency of the materials, all invite us inward. To a deeper part of us that asks us if we’re ready to remember.

The Intention is an Invitation

My art is an invitation to view black as a portal of your own potential. An invitation to connect with the deeper parts of you that are ready to be seen, felt, healed, and released. And sometimes, my art is an invitation to witness your own magic. A gentle mirror reflecting your own potency, power, and portal to infinite possibility.   

To the Ones Remembering Across Timezones

Something ancient is stirring in you.

You may not know how you landed here—on this blog, on this page—but part of you does know. It’s the part that has always known. The part that remembers singing light into water, placing your hands on stone and feeling it sing back, watching the stars for messages written in their quiet blinking.

You are not alone.

And you are not imagining it.

To those that awaken in the beyond…

There is a wave of awakening moving through your land.

Not loud, but steady. Not showy, but soul-deep.

You may feel a soft hum beneath your skin, a pull toward the Earth, a longing you can’t name. You may find yourself walking more slowly, listening more deeply, feeling emotions rise like tides.

This is remembrance.

Not of facts or timelines, but of frequency.

You’re remembering your role as a guardian, a bridge, a weaver of the sacred.

You are not late. You are arriving.

The systems you were raised in may not hold you anymore.

The titles may feel hollow. The routines may feel brittle.

That’s okay.

You are being invited into a new kind of rhythm—one guided not by clocks, but by the heartbeat of Gaia, the intuition of your body, and the whisper of your soul.

You are not here to fix the old.

You are here to build the new by being fully yourself.

What You’re Feeling Is Real

The pull toward art.

The craving for silence.

The desire to create something that makes no sense but feels sacred.

These are signs you are aligning. Your soul is calling home its pieces—and in doing so, you create a frequency others can feel.

Your presence is the prayer.

Your light is the invitation.

You’ve Been Here Before

Many of us have woven light together across lifetimes.

We met in temples and forests, in the liminal spaces between worlds.

Some of us are remembering now, all at once. The threads are reweaving.

This website, this sanctuary, is one of those threads.

We are gathering again.

Not for performance.

But for presence.

For healing.

For the next remembering.

A Mystic Soul Voyage of Collecting Vibes: Iceland’s Ring Road

The Call of the North

Iceland began calling to my soul months before I was to step foot on her sacred land. It was no accident that I received an invitation to visit — and at a fare I simply couldn’t resist. The pull was magnetic. My curiosity was aroused. My interest piqued. My wardrobe… woefully lacking. So I set out to prepare for what would become a soul voyage through dimensions. A mission planned long before I incarnated — a vibrational pilgrimage, or as I playfully call it, “collecting vibes.”

The Ring Road as a Portal

Something felt transformative from the very first night in the camper. We went to sleep surrounded by green fields and dark mountains, and woke to find the land blanketed in snow. The fields were swallowed in white; the mountains draped in crystalline silence. It felt like an auric clearing — a purification. A cleansing before moving deeper into the voyage.

Because of the snow — and heavier storms forecasted along our planned counter-clockwise route — we listened to the whispers of the land and its elemental folk and rerouted. We began our journey up the West Coast, starting in what some mystics call the “Crown Chakra of the Earth”: the Snaefellsnes Peninsula.

Along the Ring Road, there was a soft, mutual silence between my travel partner — my son — and me. There were times for talking, but mostly, listening. Listening to the land sing her song, hum her rhythm, and beat her drum. The quiet was necessary so we could hear her call.

And call she did.

Magic was everywhere. Sudden, unexpected stops called to us. Each one had something waiting — waterfalls, lava fields, glaciers, the midnight sun, playful seals, and mountains that reflected our own inner strength and resilience. We were instruments being tuned by the land’s tools. In return, we offered our love, our gratitude, and a promise to always remember.

Soul Codes in the Landscape

Thingvellir, Snaefellsbaer, and Olafsvik held imprints of purification, cleansing, and purging. From the snowfall to Alvarito’s great purge in Olafsvik, we were being prepared for the next passage.

Akureyri was where I began receiving the message of stepping onto my “joy timeline.” The town felt like it had popped out of a movie — clean lines, brilliant colors, kind townsfolk, and even a year-round Christmas shop. That day, as sun codes streamed toward us, it felt like an upgrade on all levels.

Godafoss Waterfall reminded me to release what no longer serves, clearing resistance to what I’m now calling in.

At a campground near Husavik, latitude 66.12, we found magic in connection with locals, a joyful soccer match, and a breathtaking midnight sunset. We set our intention to meet the whales in the Arctic waters the next day, then tucked ourselves into the camper with full hearts.

In Husavik, our intentions were heard. The whales welcomed us with an extraordinary display — splashing, leaping, dancing. Time stood still. I was a little girl again, thrilled beyond measure, no longer needing to control my joy. That moment healed the part of me that once worried how the world would see my wonder.

In Fljótsdalshérað, the flowing waters called us. We responded with bare feet and open hands. The message was clear: Trust your intuition. Let the energies move through you. Alvarito’s energy had been stagnant, but after placing his hands in the stream, something shifted. He lit up and began collecting rocks that mirrored parts of ourselves we were just beginning to remember.

Djúpivogur brought us across steep mountain passes with thin roads and no guardrails. It demanded silence and reverence. The day before, I had texted a friend: “For me, there is no greater freedom than a brave journey through the unknown.” These words, I later realized, had foretold this part of our path.

Hofn and Vestrahorn were potent, palpable. The air was thick with magic — like smelling a scent so strong you can taste it. There, time stopped entirely. We galloped like wild Icelandic horses across black sand beaches, explored a Viking movie set, and perched atop a cliff to share a silent, telepathic moment with a seal.

It was there that I realized I had already stepped into my “joy timeline.” All the elements were present to witness that moment. This was the climax.

Glaciers in Hofn, a picnic in Kirkjubæjarklaustur, and waterfall-filled drives gifted us a raw beauty I will never forget.

In Vik, we found warmth and soulful welcome — like being embraced by an old friend. Skool Beans Café and the Lava Show were highlights. After the intensity of the prior days, Vik offered us the perfect place to slow down and integrate.

Traveling with My Son: A Shared Awakening

My son and I returned home changed. We are not the same beings who started the journey. What we learned is this: the same magic that moves you to tears in the presence of wild beauty… lives within us, too. Within you.

Integration: Bringing the Vibes Home

Now we begin the blend — carrying the Icelandic vibes back to our home on the farm. We plant these frequencies into the sacred land and infuse them into the Sanctuary we’re creating: a place of healing, art, remembrance, and resonance.

Closing

Trust the nudges, even when they don’t make sense right away. I once channeled a message that said, “It’s always right. We just don’t know why, yet.”

So I’ll leave you with this question:

Where are you being called to collect soul fragments you didn’t know you’d left behind?

What Is Frequency-encoded Art?

Often I hear, “This piece feels like it was made just for me…” That is my art calling to the heart and soul of those that are drawn in. They are connecting with the frequency of the art I create and encode.

Frequency-encoded art is art created with intention—not just color and form, but of energy. It’s a living transmission, woven through the layers of paint, materials, and vision. Each piece holds an energetic blueprint, encoded during the process of creation. That blueprint may carry peace, expansion, protection, clarity, or remembrance—whatever the moment is calling forth.

In my case, these frequencies are channeled. I begin by listening—not with my ears, but my whole field. Sometimes it comes through my dreams or meditations, other times through a walk in the pasture or a quiet moment in a thrift store—or many times, during a deeply relaxing shower late at night. The art arrives as a feeling, a pulse, an image or a set of colors and materials that want to come together. My hands become the conduit.

But frequency-encoded art is not just about what I put into it. It’s about what you receive.

You may feel drawn to a piece for reasons you can’t explain. You might sense calm, stirring, joy, familiarity, or the sudden release of something that no longer fits. That’s the frequency working with you.

Once, at an art show, a woman walked by my display and stopped suddenly in her tracks. She stared for a long moment and then exclaimed, “That’s genius! That is EXACTLY what I need!” She was pointing to a piece I’d almost left behind that day—a small creation made from thrifted elements: a hexagonal mirror reflecting the viewer, layered with wooden blocks that simply read, “Trust Me.” She bought it on the spot. It had spoken directly to her soul.

This kind of art isn’t passive. It’s collaborative. A visual doorway that speaks to your spirit in the language of energy.

That’s the kind of work I create here at KetcoStudio. Not just art for your walls—but frequencies for your soul.

How Art Carries Energy and Supports Your Awakening

We are all energy before we are form.

And just like music, movement, or nature—art carries a frequency. Not just the intention of the artist, but the vibrational imprint of the moment it was created, the materials it’s made of, and the way it interacts with the space and the viewer. When art is created consciously, it becomes an energetic companion on your journey.

In my own awakening, art became both a mirror and a lighthouse. Some pieces reflected truths I wasn’t ready to speak, others reminded me of parts I’d forgotten—dreams, past lives, spirit guides, ancient emotions. The act of creating became a sacred ritual. The act of viewing became a conversation with the soul.

When your energy is shifting—when you’re expanding, shedding, remembering—it helps to surround yourself with things that anchor you in your truth. Art can do that. It can hold a frequency of safety, trust, clarity, joy, surrender, remembrance—whatever you’re calling in.

That’s why I always say: the art you choose isn’t just decor. It’s a frequency you’re inviting into your field. It’s a vibrational ally in your home, studio, or sacred space.

Whether it’s a quiet abstract that helps you calm your nervous system, a bold creation that keeps your fire lit, or a handmade alter piece that feels like an invitation to pray—art can meet you exactly where you are and gently lead you where you’re going.

This is why I create. To offer energetic companions for your becoming. To make beauty that doesn’t just hang on a wall—but hums in your field.

Preparing for a Mystical Retreat in Florida

There’s a moment—right before the retreat begins—when the air shifts. The wind picks up, the trees lean in, and something ancient stirs beneath the surface. That’s when I know: the land is listening.

Hosting private retreats on this land has become one of the most sacred parts of my work. It’s not just a getaway—it’s a homecoming. And preparing for that experience begins well before you arrive.

Here’s how to prepare for a mystical, artful retreat on the farm:

• Listen to the Call

  This is not a retreat you think about—it’s one you feel. You may find yourself revisiting the page again and again, or dreaming about horses, card spreads, or wide open skies. That’s your soul saying yes.

When you book, I’ll ask a few simple questions:

1. What are you calling in?

2. What are you ready to release?

3. What energy would you like this retreat to hold for you?

From there, the co-creation begins.

• Pack like a Pilgrim, Not a Tourist

  You don’t need much—just clothes you can move in, layers for the Florida sun and shade, a journal, and an open heart. I’ll provide the art materials, tea, and cozy touches. You’re also welcome to bring a sacred item (a stone, photo, or token) to carry around with you as we move about the sacred land.

• Expect to Feel Both Held and Activated

  This is not a “check out and escape” retreat—it’s a “drop in and remember” one. Through breathwork, tarot, intuitive art, release rituals, and moments in nature, we create space for awakening and anchoring. Some people cry. Some people laugh and paint wildly. Some people find exactly what they didn’t know they were missing.

• Let the Land Support You

  The horses, the pond, the wind through the grass—they’re not background noise. They’re part of the container. This farm holds its own medicine. You’ll feel it the moment you step out of your car. This is a place where you can exhale completely.

• Leave With More Than Memories

  You’ll leave with a piece of art created by your own hands, channeled wisdom from your Higher Self, and a deeper sense of clarity, alignment, and connection. You may also leave with dirt on your knees, paint under your nails, and the kind of glow that comes from fully remembering who you really are.

Ready to say yes?

Visit the Sacred Services page to select the group retreat option or explore the various private retreat options.

The land is ready when you are. The portal is open.

The Healing Power of Tarot and Ritual in Community

There’s something ancient that awakens when we gather in circle.

It’s in the way we sit together—soft-eyed and open-hearted. It’s in the way the cards seem to speak directly to every woman present. And it’s in the sacred hush that falls when someone names their truth out loud for the first time in years.

This is the healing power of tarot and ritual in community. Not just symbolic. Not just beautiful. But transformative.

Tarot as Mirror, Not Map

In my circles and retreats, tarot isn’t about fortune-telling. It’s about reflection. It’s a visual language for the soul—a way of listening to what’s already stirring beneath the surface.

Each card is an archetype, a nudge, a whisper from your inner self. When read in community, the resonance expands. What one person pulls often speaks to the whole group. We remember that we’re all walking parallel paths, even if the scenery looks different.

Ritual as Sacred Pause

Ritual brings the invisible into form. It marks the shift from “everyday” to intentional. Whether we’re burning something we’re ready to release, crafting art from found objects, or sharing tea beneath the trees, ritual grounds us. It says: this moment matters.

In a world that rushes us through everything, ritual invites us to slow down and witness. To see ourselves and each other with reverence.

Why community Matters

Healing doesn’t always happen in solitude. Sometimes, it happens when we’re held in a shared space—where someone else nods and says “me too,” or “I see you.”

When women gather for tarot, art, and earth-based ritual, something shifts. We soften. We remember. We belong.

These are the moments I hold sacred in my work. Whether you join a group retreat or opt for a private session, you’ll be met with presence, openness, and a container woven in trust and intention.

Because we heal more deeply when we remember we’re not alone. And because ritual, when shared, becomes a bridge back to wholeness.