Art, D.I.Y. Therapy, Empowering Discussions, Journal Prompts

Surround Yourself With….

Surround yourself with loving words, thoughts, and actions. Just like I surrounded this pine tree with protective pine cones.

– What do I need to do to feel loved and supported?

– Do I have loved ones who support me?

– If not, how can I support myself?

Self-care means diving deep into our mental, emotional, and physical health. You can do this with journaling, meditation, and creativity. Do what feels healthy. Set boundaries with your addictions. If you need extra help, reach out to a loved one or mentor. Don’t hide when you need loving support. Ask for it.

Trunk of pine tree surrounded by carefully laid out pine cones in a circular pattern by Leah Oviedo

Peace and hugs, Leah

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“Blooming Rage” a Poem on Día De Los Muertos by Daisy Salinas

Art by Karla Camacho.

Blooming Rage,
My ancestors pillaged and raped.
Blooming Rage,
The trauma buried deep within.
The screams, punches, blood, the ripping hairs.
The kicking, broken glass and wails.
500 years of rage.
These seeds will grow, this rage will bloom until women inherit this world.
This pain will not be for nothing.
This pain will not be for nothing.
Because my ancestors lived my worst nightmares
So that I could live their dreams.
With the opportunity to choose a life for me.
Blooming Rage,
So colorful – yellow, blue, and pink leaves blooming from my heart and fingertips.
Blowing in these chilled cold winds for thousands of years.
Until the breeze awakens them.
The descendants.
So that their hearts are a little less heavy, a little less heavy.
Blooming rage,
This is not the way the world is supposed to be.
A tear in time, they came in ships,
The sky ripped open and greed consumed this beautiful mother.
It’s up to us, the
people, to not fail her or fail each other.
Blooming Rage,
These ocean tides make my leaves blow even harder.
Blooming Rage,
I used to hate you.
I used to think your anger was slowly drowning me.
But now I realize it is the only thing keeping me alive and breathing.
Praying for that same clean air that my ancestors breathed and clean water that they used to heal their wounds.
The healing is my medicine.
The anger is my armor.
They cannot take our rage, our seeds are growing and only blooming stronger.
Blooming Rage,
No, it will never stop until women inherit this earth as it was always meant to.

Daisy Salinas is a Xicana feminist punk zinester (Muchacha Fanzine), musician (Frijolera Riot), activist, curator, and poet (Wake-Up!). She started the quarterly decolonial feminist punk fest “Xingonas in the Pit” with the purpose of promoting punk as an act of resistance and self-sufficiency for people of color. Her goal for the third Xingonas in the Pit: “Black and Brown Punk Fest TX” is to build a safe space for punks of color to reclaim their identities, their art, and their collective liberation. She recently made history/herstory with the first Black and Brown Punk Fest in San Antonio, Texas, USA.

Karla Camacho creates original prints, paintings and handmade pottery made with love. Originaria de Jalisco, Mexico based in Long Beach, CA.. She is creating work that meets at the intersections of my genderqueer, migrant, Latinx identities. Find her on and

ImpowerYou supports independent women/womyn, poc, and queer artists. Thank you for reading. 

Book Reviews, Grief

Book Review: “Not in the Pink” by Tina Martel

Not In The Pink” by Tina Martel

Although I am no Snow White I am living with the seven chemo dwarves. Itchy, Weepy, Weary, Drippy, Achy, Queasy, Bitchy. They bring a friend, Wimpy.” -Tina Martel

Are you looking for a book about dealing with cancer that isn’t bent toward the heroic, and cheerful? As an artist, Tina Martel does an amazing job of recording her battle with cancer with poignant imagery and words that sting. This is a mixture of darkness and fear, hope and humor, love and letting go of eyelashes.

Her book takes you through the realities of a cancer diagnosis without shying away from the painful treatment, nausea, mood swings, the loss of independence and balance, the confused stares, wayward words, uncomfortable silences and the fear of not knowing if you will survive.

Her journey includes surgery, chemotherapy, radiation therapy, homeopathic and prescription drugs and attempts by herself and others to alleviate the dark clouds that overhang a possibility of looming death.

I laughed and cried while reading this book. It brought back my own memories of when my mother battled cancer. A battle she eventually lost. Reading this book was therapeutic in that it reminded me that we really have no clue where our lives will lead, but we are in control of how we react to the journey.

Get your copy at or on


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