My name is _____________, and I’m an underbreather

I’ve been practicing yoga since 2011, and I realize – for me at least – it’s all in the nose. Whether at a studio under formal, individualized attention, a more loosely structured fitness center, or here at home, my nose muscles are finally toned enough that I can begin to learn from the story that my own breathing is telling me. And for that I need air – lots of it. I had been on various breathing diets, as it were, in conjunction with meditation, spirituality, and even organized monasticism, but for reasons that I promise to honor but not discuss, yoga has somehow empowered me to admit that I, indeed, want more, much more out of air, and that I need to associate myself with others who interact with it proactively and in front of whom I can honestly say, “I’m Paul, and I’m an underbreather.”


If You Got The Quarters…

…there’s no telling what you can wash and dry!
Yea, spent some time at the coin-operated laundry after yoga. Have to admit, I was thinking about this to a small extent during Savasana, but it passed.



I go places during Savasana. Just today I took a spin around the block.


I joke about yoga, but in the year and a half since I started practicing it, it has come to mean more to me than words can express. Learning how to listen to the stories that my own respiration is telling me is, I’m sorry, I can’t resist, breathtaking. There’s so much more to yoga that I don’t like talking about it at all.

When Ann turned me on to Fifty Three Paper, my first drawings were yoga related. Here are a couple of examples:





I modified the following photo of one of my blocks and made a blank notecard of it. It was inspired by my first instructor, Paula at Shakti Yoga in Des Moines, where I’m a beginner-practitioner.  Namaste to my other instructors Marialyce and Joseph.