I Keep Seeing 11, 1:11, and 11:11… EVERYWHERE

Have you ever caught yourself looking at the clock at just the right moment—11:11—or noticed 1:11 appearing on receipts, phone screens, or random places? Lately, these numbers have been showing up in my daily life with such consistency that I had to stop and reflect: What am I supposed to do with this message?

Understanding the Meaning

In numerology and spiritual traditions, repeating ones—11, 1:11, and 11:11—are often seen as signs of spiritual awakening, alignment, and manifestation. They serve as reminders that our thoughts, intentions, and actions are creating our reality. But beyond their meaning, what really matters is how we respond to these signs.

As an artist, I see the world in layers—meanings hidden beneath surfaces, waiting to be uncovered. When these numbers appear, I take them as cues to turn inward, realign with my purpose, and take intentional action in my life and creative practice.

Pause and Reflect

When I see 11:11, I take a deep breath. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and ask: What am I feeling in this moment? These numbers are an invitation to step out of autopilot and check in with myself. Am I feeling aligned with my path? Am I honoring my creative spirit? Sometimes, this moment of stillness reveals exactly what I need to hear.

Refocus My Intentions

Numbers like 1:11 and 11:11 remind me that my thoughts shape my reality. If I’m caught in a spiral of doubt or worry, this is my signal to shift my mindset. Instead of asking “Why isn’t this working?” I ask, What small step can I take today to move forward? This shift in focus keeps me grounded and empowered.

Take Aligned Action

Receiving these signs means nothing if I don’t respond to them. When these numbers appear, I ask: What is one action I can take right now to honor this message? Maybe it’s picking up my sketchbook, reaching out to a friend, or simply choosing to trust myself. These numbers remind me that change happens through small, intentional choices.

Stay Open and Trust the Process

Sometimes, I don’t immediately understand why these numbers appear, and that’s okay. Not every message needs to be deciphered right away. Instead, I trust that I’m being guided, even if the path ahead isn’t fully clear. The key is to remain open—to inspiration, to possibility, to unexpected opportunities.

What’s Your Next Step?

If you’re seeing 11, 1:11, or 11:11, take it as a moment to pause, reflect, and realign. What is the universe asking you to notice? What step, no matter how small, can you take today? These numbers aren’t just signs—they are invitations to step more fully into who you are meant to be.

Have you been seeing these numbers too? How do you respond when they appear? Let’s talk about it! ✨

27 Little Fountain’s Saman Tree: My Muse

The moment we swooped down the driveway of 27 Little Fountain in Christiansted, St. Croix, and saw the towering tree by the dry riverbed, I knew I had found our home. The house, a clear gut job from the MLS listing, didn’t matter. The tree called to me, welcoming me, and I instantly felt the property’s unique magic. The Saman tree (Samanea saman), with its vast canopy and enduring presence, holds deep meaning in Caribbean folklore. Rooted in Afro-Caribbean, Indigenous, and Creole traditions, it symbolizes spirituality, healing, and community—offering profound inspiration for my art and the eco-artist residency I am developing here.

1. Ancestral Spirits

In Afro-Caribbean spiritual traditions such as Obeah, Santería, and Vodou, the Saman tree is revered as a sacred home for ancestral spirits and a portal to the spiritual realm. Its roots are believed to bridge the living and the dead, making it a site for offerings, libations, and prayers to honor ancestors and seek their guidance. The branches of our tree, adorned with wild dragon fruit and night-blooming cereus, provide natural offerings to bats and birds alike.

2. Healing Properties

The Saman tree is valued in Caribbean folk medicine for its practical and symbolic healing powers. Traditional healers use its bark and leaves to make teas for colds, fever, and diarrhea, while its resin or sap is applied to skin wounds. This connection to health and vitality reflects a holistic view of nature as a source of sustenance and renewal.

3. Shelter and Protection

The tree’s sprawling canopy provides more than just shade—it creates a communal space and symbolizes safety. Beneath its branches, we’ve hosted bush baths, storytelling sessions, and community gatherings. For farmers, the Saman tree is a sign of good fortune, its shade nourishing crops, enriching soil, and sheltering goats, embodying abundance and protection. Its deep roots seek out and signal underground water sources, further enhancing its significance.

A Living Symbol of Life and Connection

The Saman tree is deeply intertwined with the life I am building, blending the physical and spiritual worlds. Its legacy of shelter, healing, and connection to ancestors inspires reflection on the unseen forces that shape our lives, echoing themes central to my new work.

This enduring tree stands as a testament to a reverence for nature and its ability to sustain, protect, and heal—a reminder of the profound stories rooted in this land itself.

Inspired by Chinese Wax Dye Resist: Exploring a Timeless CraftWax Dye Resist

This video is start to finish spectacular and inspiring.

Art is a living dialogue between cultures, time periods, and materials, often bridging the ancient and the modern. Chinese wax dye resist, also known as làrǎn (蜡染), is a traditional technique that has captivated artists for centuries. Its intricate patterns, deep symbolism, and labor-intensive process reflect the cultural heritage of regions in China where it is still practiced, such as Guizhou, Yunnan, and Guangxi provinces. Today, this ancient craft offers a wellspring of inspiration for contemporary creators.

BookClub: Water Graves by Valerie Loichot

Water Graves by Valerie Loichot is a profound exploration of the ocean as both a literal and metaphorical grave, particularly in relation to the Middle Passage and the legacy of the transatlantic slave trade. Loichot examines how water serves as a site of memory, mourning, and transformation, holding the weight of untold histories lost beneath its surface.

One of the book’s most powerful themes is the duality of water as both life-giving and destructive. Loichot delves into how the ocean, while capable of erasing physical traces, becomes a vast memorial for those who perished in its depths. Her poetic reflections on the ocean’s capacity to obscure and reveal offer a nuanced understanding of how water embodies loss, survival, and cultural resilience.

Loichot captures the tension between water as both a destructive and life-giving force. This duality inspires my Lost and Found series, where I use marine waste—objects abandoned or displaced by hurricanes—as materials to create sacred vessels. Just as Loichot discusses the ocean as a space of burial, mourning, and sometimes recovery, my art reclaims these discarded objects from the water’s aftermath, transforming them into symbols of resilience and memory. With this series, each piece I create is a tribute to those lost in the Atlantic, while also reflecting on the environmental and cultural devastation left in the wake of these storms.

Loichot’s discussion of water as a boundary between life and death, presence and absence, resonates with my own artistic exploration of memory and spiritual protection. She writes about how water can obscure and reveal, how it holds the stories of the past even as it erases physical traces. This is something I aim to reflect in my work—the idea that what is lost in the water isn’t truly gone but rather transformed, just as I transform marine waste into something meaningful.

Loichot’s work is essential for anyone interested in how environmental and historical forces converge in the symbolic and real-world power of the sea. Through Water Graves, she reveals the emotional depth of the ocean’s role in shaping cultural identity, memory, and history.

Exploring Banana Leaf Mordanting: A Sustainable Dyeing AdventureBanana Leaf Mordant?!

I’ve been diving into the world of natural dyeing, and I’m especially intrigued by banana leaf mordanting. This innovative and eco-friendly method uses the tannins and plant-based compounds in banana leaves to help dyes bind to fibers, creating subtle and earthy color variations. It’s a beautiful way to combine sustainability with creativity, and I can’t wait to try it out for myself!

To make this happen, I’m planning to grow my own banana trees. I’m in the process of choosing the perfect spot in my yard—a sunny area with well-draining soil is ideal since banana trees thrive in warmth and humidity. I also need to make sure the location is sheltered from strong winds to protect their large, delicate leaves and promote healthy growth and fruit production.

This is just the beginning of the journey, and I’ll share more updates as the planting season progresses. I’m looking forward to the day when I can harvest my own banana leaves and experiment with their dyeing magic! Stay tuned.

DIY Kumihimo Braiding Tool Using Pharmacy Pill Blister Packaging

In our increasingly waste-conscious world, finding creative ways to repurpose everyday items can inspire both art and sustainability. One such project is crafting a Kumihimo braiding tool from something many of us have lying around: empty pharmacy pill blister packaging. This unexpected material makes for a sturdy, flexible, and recyclable tool to create stunning braided cords.

Book Review: In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa’s Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World

I’m currently reading In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa’s Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World by Judith Carney as part of my research into the folklore surrounding Provision Grounds on St. Croix. This book is a rich resource, not only for its deep historical analysis but for how it weaves together the botanical, cultural, and social legacies of enslaved Africans in the New World. It provides a vital context for understanding how African knowledge systems, particularly around agriculture and medicinal plants, played a crucial role in survival and resistance during the transatlantic slave trade.

The book does a remarkable job of showing how African botanical knowledge traveled across the Atlantic, taking root in the Caribbean, the American South, and other regions. What I found particularly compelling is the examination of Provision Grounds—small plots of land where enslaved people were able to cultivate food. These spaces became sites of autonomy and resistance, where African agricultural practices flourished despite the oppressive conditions of slavery.

The book also highlights the resilience of African people, whose knowledge of plants—whether for food, medicine, or rituals—was passed down through generations and became a key part of life in the New World. This legacy is still felt today in the foods we eat, the herbal remedies we use, and the traditions we uphold. The book reminds us that while slavery was a system of immense brutality, African culture survived, adapted, and influenced the world in profound ways.

One of the aspects I found particularly useful for my work is the book’s detailed exploration of specific plants and their uses, which provides a foundation for understanding how these botanical legacies have shaped not only survival but also identity in the African diaspora. For anyone interested in the intersection of history, agriculture, and cultural survival, In the Shadow of Slavery is a must-read. It’s a powerful reminder of the enduring strength of African traditions, especially in the face of immense adversity.

As I continue to work on my own project exploring the folklore and foodways of St. Croix, this book has given me both insight and inspiration. It’s not just about the plants themselves, but the stories and practices that surround them—how they offer a means of connection to the past, resistance in the present, and hope for the future.