They say you can’t know where you’re going until you remember where you’re from. For me, "from" is Hackettstown, New Jersey. It’s a place of unapologetic energy, the best bagels and pizza you’ll ever have, and a high school experience (Class of ’08) that felt like the center of the world at the time. I grew up with a deep love for movement (dance, cheerleading, theater) and a drive to create, which led me straight into the fast-paced world of fashion school as a fashion major

Moving fast is easy. Staying still is where it gets interesting. I used to be addicted to the rush. I thought that if I wasn't sweating or shaking through a rapid-fire sequence, I wasn't actually "doing" yoga. I treated my mat like a treadmill. But lately, I’ve been exploring a different kind of intensity. The intensity of the Slow Burn. It’s the moment in a transition where your balance wavers and you have to decide: Do I rush through this to get it over with, or do I stay a

Most of us spend our lives drowning in the current. lol We are swept away by the "rush" of the morning, the "surge" of an inbox, and the "whirlpool" of our own anxieties. We’ve been conditioned to believe that we are  the river. We think if the water is choppy, we are broken. If the current is fast, we must hurry. But the ancient practice of yoga offers a radical perspective: Stop fighting the current and climb onto the shore. It invites us to become the Drashta —the Seer. Th