

A World Where the Strange Is Beautiful and Art Comes Alive


Nothing is Random
I was never in an accident. What happened to me was genetic—something that began affecting my life in high school. Over time, influenced by lifestyle choices, my condition progressed until it became hemiparesis: the weakening of one side of the body.
When the right side of my body first began to fail me, I panicked. The weakness felt like moving through molasses, as if my limbs were dragging against an invisible resistance. I didn’t know what to do, and the only recommendation doctors could offer was physical therapy.
I hate working out.
I don’t like counting repetitions. It’s dull. I hate sit-ups. I only run when someone is chasing me. So the idea of traditional physical therapy felt unbearable—another obligation that ignored how my body actually works.
Instead of surrendering to frustration, I chose to move on my own terms.
Every movement I make has intention.
None of my movements are random.
I listen to my body and push it precisely where it needs to go—extending my reach, increasing difficulty, demanding balance, control, and awareness.
I don’t stop moving because I know what it feels like to lose mobility. Hemiparesis weakened more than one side of my body—it chipped away at my self-respect and my satisfaction with life.
I never want to feel that again.
My goal is not superhuman strength.
It is not appearance.
My goal is flexibility.
Endurance that lasts.
Balance.
Mobility.
Core strength.
This is not exercise to punish my body.
This is movement to reclaim it.

Calisthenics
Calisthenics is strength training that uses your own body weight as resistance, with minimal equipment. My practice uses a rope, a yoga block, and a large staff.
In this image, I’m twirling a bow staff. I don’t just spin it in front of me—I dip, sway, pass it behind my body, and redirect it through space. Every transition requires grip strength, shoulder stability, balance, and sustained control.
When I balance on a yoga block, my core is fully engaged. Even standing still on the block demands constant activation to maintain alignment.
Adding dance and bow staff work on top of that instability increases the challenge exponentially. The staff shifts my center of gravity, the block removes stability, and my core has to respond continuously to both.
Nothing is static. Nothing is passive.
Every movement is working.
Yoga
There is nothing that I do more, than stretching. Increasing my flexibility has helped me significantly with pain reduction, mobility, and even mental health benefits. I flat out feel good after every time I stretch.
Unlike traditional workouts, I have interwoven stretching into most every aspect of my workout.
When I am raising my arms up high, and balancing on the yoga block, I am also streching the entire length of my body.
During my dances, I will still usually be extending my arms or legs in ways that stretch out my body. I will frequently be dancing while in yoga positions.
All of my workout is interwoven into a stream of constant ebb and flow. Continually moving, never ceasing to break. I flow from one activity to another, only to return to the first and start all over again.


Tai Chi
My workout is a fluid motion, flowing from one craft to another. It requires mental focus, deep breathing, and body control.
This strongly emulates the principles behind Tai Chi. Frequently I will hold positions while balancing on the yoga block, and just breath into my belly.
This helps me in a multitude of ways, like relaxation, concentration and breath control.
After a fast paced, very intense dance, I will take a moment to pause and hold my arms and a leg up, like a frozen karate move. All to focus my mind on my body and take a moment to rest my lungs.
Dance
Dance is the foundation of my workout. This is why I keep working out everyday. It keeps me engaged and active during my workout.
It is the reason that I look forward to going everyday. Because it is fun.
Enjoyment is a highly motivating factor for repeating behaviors. If you enjoy something, you are simply more likely to do it again.
I get lost in the music and my body connects in a way that is difficult to convey. When I dance, I get lost.
There is no stress, no anxiety, no pain, no grief, it is only my body and the songs that sweep me off my feet and take me to Neverland.
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