Tags » Ashtanga
my mat is my canvas, body this awkward paintbrush, breath the colors, and postures an ever-shifting frame. every morning as the sleepy sun wakes up so do I, making my way to this little wood-paneled room, saying good day to all the smiling dirty faces who keep the pigeons company at night. 743 more words
Thank you for all who joined us- it was a magnificent event!
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