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Brenda Natajaé

@comeoutsideandplay

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Oh, The Thinks You Can Think 📚
If only you try ✨
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Stillness There came a moment when my body stopped holding its breath. Not because the world softened but because I did. Chaos still passed through the room. Fear still looked for a witness. But my breath learned how to stay. My spine learned where it belonged. This is the stillness they don’t teach not quiet as disappearance, but quiet as gravity. And my presence became a place where others could feel safe enough to become themselves, and what was coming next didn’t have to brace for impact. taken in Los Angeles, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Integration Coherence made me legible to myself and disruptive to others. There was a season when I learned how threatening coherence can be. Glasses on, I was trusted with strategy. Glasses off, I was treated like risk. The same body— one welcomed in boardrooms, loyalty questioned on dance floors. I was asked, quietly and loudly, to choose which version of myself was allowed to lead. I did not choose. I refused the split. Dance kept me sane. Clarity kept me building. And the cost of integration was paid in misunderstandings, fractured alliances, and boundaries born from fear. Still, I stayed whole. Because coherence was never about being palatable. It was about being undivided. taken in San Bernardino, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Regulated Power When my body learned safety, power stopped feeling urgent. I no longer needed to burn to keep others warm. I learned the difference between responsibility and self-erasure, between leadership and inherited survival roles. This is where intention replaced endurance. Where my presence became the structure. Where I could hold others without absorbing their weight— and lead without repeating what I came here to end. taken in San Diego, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Cheza Roho Dance melted away from performance and revealed somatic therapy. My body reached for what it already knew when thought could no longer lead And my voice was no longer safe to use. Before there was language, there was rhythm. Before I could see the path, there existed a way through. Later, I learned its name—Cheza Roho— a language my muscles never forgot. Step by step, I returned. Into my legs. Into time. Into myself. This is where coherence found me— not as an idea, but as an inheritance. And without interference My body remembered, Every ancestral truth forgotten. taken in San Bernardino, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Conscious Interruption I became strong because collapse was not an option. I was mother, provider, regulator, leader— for my children, for my partner, for everyone who depended on my endurance but not my rest. But awareness changed the rules. What once kept us alive could not be allowed to keep deciding the future. I refused to keep surviving at the cost of my body. I refused to reproduce what I had the clarity to outgrow. My name was already with me, even when I wasn’t ready to stand inside of it. taken in San Bernardino, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Pattern Recognition Endurance has a lifespan. My body stopped waiting for my mind’s permission. The dissonance grew loud enough to interrupt joy mid-sentence— a racing heart in a movie theater, air thinning without warning. I learned what panic feels like when truth has been postponed too long. Tears fell while I reassured everyone else, saying I’m fine, as my body asked—again—to be felt. That’s when I understood: what I was calling anxiety was a system alert. My body was naming what my life would not yet let me stop carrying. taken in Fontana, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Load-bearing Child I became adaptive before I became safe. Vigilance arrived first, took up residence in my chest, and learned my name. Someone had to hold the structure so my body did. Still a child, already arranging the room for impact, already listening for what might break next. This was not resilience. It was load-bearing. invisible labor done in bone and breath, while the world mistook my capacity for strength. I did not collapse because collapse was not permitted. I learned how to endure inside systems that asked children to grow up quietly. And quietly, my inner child waited patiently to grow. I was A Mother, now. taken in Rialto, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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The Vow When my voice became punishable, I made a vow with my body. At fourteen, I relocated my truth from my throat into motion Dance taught me self-regulation before I had language for it how to discharge chaos through movement, how to self-protect without disappearing. This was my first act of self-mothering: keeping my nervous system intact inside an incoherent world. taken in Rialto, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Marked by Truth I was marked by truth early God-known before I was protected born with a way of feeling that unsettled rooms when I wasn’t trying to perform. They renamed my sensitivity weakness, said I carried too much in plain sight. What made them uncomfortable when I was just living became acceptable once the curtain rose and truth was dressed up as a show. That was my first lesson in coherence: truth is only dangerous where it reveals what others refuse to face especially when it arrives without music, lights, or permission. taken in Compton, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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7 months ago
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Series: Eve in Sedona Artist / Subject: Natajaé Year: 2025 Medium: Digital Film Still (Captured from Original Motion Work) Edition: 1 of 1 (Living Original) In Sedona I went searching for spirit but found spirit being sold back to me. The red rock remembered me, even when the world forgot. This piece is a prayer for every ancestor whose sacred was made into someone else’s souvenir. Inspired by “Hallelujah” by KAMAUU taken in Sedona, Arizona by @comeoutsideandplay
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9 months ago
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Series: Indigenous Blues Medium: Photography Date: 2025 Soundtrack: “I Lied to You” by Miles Canton (from the film Sinners) Immersive Format: Digital photo-music installation 🕯 Description “Indigenous Blues” is an immersive fine-art photography collection pairing still imagery with music to create an emotional portal between nostalgia and sovereignty. Set in a dimly lit bar of emerald and gold, the subject moves through states of remembrance — poised, playful, and disarmed — tracing the quiet ache between self-possession and surrender. Each image embodies a note of Miles Canton’s “I Lied to You,” translating his smoky confession into color, skin, and gesture. The glass becomes a mirror; the bar becomes a stage; and her presence, the sermon. This body of work invites the viewer to listen with their eyes — to feel the rhythm of honesty and the hum of return. It is both blues and balm: a remembering of what love sounds like when it finally tells the truth. Photographer: @smoothshooter_la Studio: @sitestudiola Makeup: @touchedbytokss Nails: @pressonalize_ taken in San Bernardino, California by @comeoutsideandplay
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9 months ago
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What if life was a waiting room, that we got to enjoy? I have so many questions on this journey of becoming… Everyday I feel a little more like myself, yet oddly anxious at what that means for people who come to know me, as I’m coming to know myself more too… All the good questions to ponder… and my heart has never steered me wrong. ❤️🕊️ So I’ll keep asking the questions, I’ll keep poking around, and I’ll keep sharing the beauty of what I’ve been finding. I found these cards and have shared more than a few breakthrough moments with friends because of them, Thank you @mrhoward365 ! 📸: @joepaparazzi ✨ by @comeoutsideandplay
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a year ago
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