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Carolann Annie Alt

@carolann721

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by @carolann721
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2 months ago
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by @carolann721
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2 months ago
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Read between the lines by @carolann721
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3 months ago
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Intension — in-tension — continues to reveal itself as the sacred stretch my Soul chose when it entered this Life School. At the Liminal Arts Residency, I felt the gravity of dream weaving, grief tendering, quilt making… and the reminder that “self-sufficient” — LOL — was never the point. We are meant to be witnessed. Messy scraps of fabric became a glorious mosaic. Threads with their own agency. One sacred stitch in a subliminal time and space. Contemplation — oh, the contemplation. And the creation that came from the deconstruction of fabrics to the (re)construction - Oshun Santa Fe’s pink skies. Dusty trails. Rough edges, curved lines. Golden thread. Sound bowls. Birds in still morning light. Homemade delicacies. Shadows dancing. Swaddled bones. A broom sweeping our ashes. Dream weavers, Stitching sisters, Black Mirrors, Tender bellies, raptured hearts. Pleasure + Pain. Grief + Love. Isolation and reclamation. Oshun’s River of Life. Bees and the hive hum. We dismembered to (re)member. I found — reclaimed — my Song. All art is a sacred transmission. To be in relationship with art is to let it expand consciousness, to witness our collective becoming. Eleven diverse women, bound by a commune thread: to heal, to steward a New Earth. Most forget their Soul chose this curriculum. I’m remembering. taken in Santa Fe, New Mexico by @carolann721
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8 months ago
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When I stepped into @lisuvega Lo Que Me Habita thefrankpembrokepines I felt a shift. The threads, oxidized fibers, suspended textiles, black and white photos, multilingual poetry: each element whispered of home and otherness, of absence and presence, of the invisible lives that dwell within us. The exhibit is a love story: to her ancestors, to herself, and what is seen and unseen in the liminal spaces. ❤️✨❤️ taken in The Frank Pembroke Pines by @carolann721
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9 months ago
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Bayshore Park—opened for us, by us. Funded through the hands and hearts of the Community, it reminds me of the safe havens of my childhood in rural PA, where parks held our laughter, our wonder, and our belonging. Here, children run free. Butterflies weave their quiet dance. Trees stretch skyward as if in prayer. Within these grounds, I trust life is lived, solitude is honored, and spirit is felt. A park is more than land—it is a woven web between nature and humanity, a place where our CommUnity, commonality that unifies) is remembered and reborn. 🌳🦋💫 taken in Miami Beach, Florida by @carolann721
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10 months ago
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Immersed in the work of @elliotanderick I felt layers of duality, surrender, and the divine feminine - an echo of my own time in Yoruba culture. Their art is both mirror and portal, where the unconscious breathes through Lucumí mysticism. Deep gratitude to their grandmother, whose stories live on in this soulful work. Honoring @pamm for curating with such fierce intentionality. In Yoruba tradition, twins hold sacred power—this exhibit holds that same reverence. ✨ Thank you @elliotanderick for you Soulful intentionality. #PAMM #Yoruba #Nigeria #Cuba #DivineFeminine taken in PAMM by @carolann721
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a year ago
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✨ Another trip around the sun ✨ This year, more than any other, I’ve lived in the dualities: The ache of loss and the grace of healing. The chaos of the world and the calm within. The yearning to understand and the surrender to mystery. Grief fractured my heart in ways only the soul can comprehend — yet it made space for a deeper gratitude to bloom. There’s a strange and sacred stillness in being both broken and redeemed. A quiet knowing that I am held, even when I do not know the way. And in that space, I commune with Source — Not seeking answers, just presence. Today, I give thanks to the Divine within — the breath that animates this body, the spark that remembers who I am. This earthly mirror reflects all that I am becoming: soft and strong, tender and true, grateful and grieving, a soul in process, a spirit in motion. Happy birthday to this becoming version of me. I honor her. I love her. I welcome her home. #BirthdayReflections #Duality #GriefAndGrace #GratitudeInBecoming by @carolann721
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a year ago
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Even with Alzheimer’s, my father continues to teach me more than words ever could. There are days when he forgets my name, but somehow remembers the essence of who I am. There are moments when time slips away from him, but his presence—his spirit—is more grounded than ever. I watch him move through this world with grace, humility, and a quiet strength that humbles me. His wisdom shows up now not in long conversations, but in precious acts of kindness. Alzheimer’s may be stealing his memories, but it can’t touch the soul of who he is. And that soul—my father’s soul—is one of the greatest teachers in my life. He reminds me daily that love doesn’t need to be remembered to be felt, and that presence is the most profound wisdom of all. I love you, Dad. Always learning from you. Always inspired. 🕊️❤️ #HappyFathersDay #DadWisdom #InspiredByYou #LoveRemembers #Gratitude by @carolann721
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a year ago
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⸻ Nestled in the bounty of nature, I answered the call of a soul-sister whose invitation led me into a circle of powerful women — each embodying her sovereignty with grace, fire, and deep remembrance. 🌿✨ Together we journeyed through realms seen and unseen… We explored the mysteries of Sex Magik, activated the Egyptian codex within, and stepped through the portal of Salem with reverence and curiosity. We nourished body, mind, and soul — with laughter, ritual, movement, and stillness. It was sacred. It was sensual. It was a divine remembering. Grateful for the connection, the mirror, the magic. #SovereignSisterhood #DivineFeminine #SexMagik #SalemPortal #EgyptianWisdom #SacredRemembering #WombWisdom #NatureMedicine #MysticPath by @carolann721
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a year ago
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Today we pause to honor mothers. But for me, every day is a quiet altar to you. There is not a single day that passes where I don’t find myself creating sacred space—through a memory, a breath, a whisper, a moment of stillness—to commune with your spirit. You are the pulse beneath my purpose, the voice in the silence, the warmth that still holds me when I feel untethered. Even though your physical form has passed, your essence remains—woven into the fabric of who I am, guiding me, loving me, anchoring me. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! You are missed beyond measure and loved beyond time. by @carolann721
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a year ago
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Loss - Loss is an inevitable thread woven into the fabric of life, yet we often rush past it, denying its presence or silencing its voice. Martín Prechtel, in his beautiful work The Smell of Rain on Dust, offers a profound lens through which to view our losses, reminding us: “Grief and Praise are renters whose landlord is Love.” Grief and Praise are not opposites, but partners in a sacred dance. Grief is the heartache of what was, while Praise is the song of gratitude for what has been. Both emerge from the deep well of Love. Yet in our hurried, pragmatic lives, do we give grief the space it deserves, so that Praise can shine through? Loss isn’t confined to death or grand moments of change. It exists in the tender, quiet transitions of life: when your daughter no longer needs you to tie her shoes, when a friend finds another confidant, or when the last golden leaf falls from the tree. Each of these moments holds a microcosm of loss, accompanied by the opportunity to grieve—and to praise.(continued in comments) by @carolann721
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2 years ago
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