I first started to develop the concept for “White Girlz Killed Yoga (A Self-Portrait)”, or simply WGKY, in 2017. I didn’t have a title then, but I had the idea to create a spiritual painting that reflected my own understanding of the world. I tapped into my own yoga practice and wanted to incorporate symbols representing the ideologies that I’d learned and integrated into my life over the years,
The majority of my work is ironic, but for this piece I wanted to avoid the typical: I aimed to steer clear of creating the expected lotus position yogi figure colored in rainbow chakras and floating in sparkling space. Although I love the sparkles of the universe, I thought the image was overused and kitschy (not in a good way). I wanted to temper that kitsch in a way that was fresh and contemporary while also being dignified and personal. On the one hand, as a student of these philosophies I wanted to elevate them and portray them with the respect that I felt for them. On the other hand, though, my desire to pay homage to the originators of these ideologies was counterbalanced by the absurdity of New Age culture, their interpretations of spirituality, and their appropriation of other cultures’ spiritual beliefs.
My first adaptation of WGKY was purely a self-portrait conceptualizing my spiritual practice. Given my immersion in yoga, meditation, and spiritual study I decided to paint myself in the typical lotus position. I initially intended to be seated in a bed, surrounded by patterned fabric (simply because I love painting patterns). My eyes were going to be whited out, like a possessed being in a horror flick, and a beam of light was to pour out of the top of my head, representing the God force energies moving through my body. My hands were positioned in a Yoni mudra for several reasons. First, since the life-giving force of Prana is believed to exist in the hands, this position is said to seal energy and stimulate the nerves. Second, it is also believed that Yoni mudra can destroy sin and help the user reach higher levels of consciousness. It is used in Kundalini yoga to unleash kundalini, the bundle of energy at the base of the spine, as well as in Nada yoga to concentrate on inner sounds that one can hear with the ears closed, to become aware of subtle sounds (i.e. God sounds).
The very first adaptation of WGKY 2017 compared to the finished painting
I started this painting while visiting Canada, brought it back to NYC, turned it over, and didn’t revisit it until I moved to Kingston, Ontario, in 2019. It was here that I turned it upside down, erased what I started, and built a new composition. I wasn’t 100% sure what the exact details of the painting would be, but I knew the direction. This is where my artwork parallels my life: as soon as I know what direction I’m headed in I start travelling and fill in the details as I go.
New direction with the same theme
Even though every inch of this composition encompassed what I practiced and believed spiritually, I had a significant amount of guilt creating this painting because it was becoming increasingly apparent how much I appropriated from other cultures. I borrowed these spiritual practices because I felt akin to their philosophies, and as a result I admired and respected the cultures that produced them because I saw the value that these tenets brought to my own life. Nevertheless, as the composition developed, I felt embarrassed. The last thing I wanted to do was be another white girl, practicing yoga in my Lululemon, wearing my mala beads carrying my yoga mat on the subway to a stinky yoga studio in midtown Manhattan where another white girl would hum a slightly out-of-tune mantra before a sweaty yoga session throughout which I attempted to ignore the increasing odors of sweating bodies intermixed with the occasional fart whistle in child’s pose. I did not want to be that girl, finishing the class with savasana (possibly the most important pose, I’ve heard every yoga instructor say), where I am released into a euphoric sense of accomplishment and gratitude, but there I was…doing it all.
As fate would have it, just as I had this epiphany I listened to the “Yoga is Dead” podcast, which forced me to reckon with my own cultural appropriation while still maintaining my heartfelt admiration for these philosophies. “Yoga is Dead” was created by two Indian American women called Tejal and Jesal who are yoga instructors and received much of their teacher training in India. This podcast explores the underbelly of Americanized yoga with an emphasis on cultural appropriation. I listened to an episode called “White Women Killed Yoga”, that went into detail about the harassment, racism, and ignorance of white women teaching and practicing yoga. As I listened to the six-episode series, I could not help but revisit my own yoga training: I received my 200-hour yoga teacher training in the middle of Manhattan, through a studio that smelt like body odor and incense. The studio was run by a white woman, and the classes I took were taught primarily by Caucasian women (and the occasional Caucasian man). The only person of color was not an instructor but the receptionist.
I took the title of this podcast installment as the basis for this painting’s title not to further the practice of appropriation but because I wanted to out against cultural appropriation while also owning up to my part in all of it. I also wanted to paint my admiration for Buddhist and Hindu philosophies as well as for the art of yoga practice, because these philosophies saved my life on many occasions. Title in hand, I was able to fill in the gaps of what I wanted to represent in this painting and solidify the composition.
In 2019 I was invited to participate in a solo exhibit with St Lawrence College’s Marianne Van Silfhout Gallery in Brockville, ON. Bad time management led me to finish the painting in haste. I added the most important elements and rendered the painting well enough to be comfortable to show it. The following year I participated in another exhibit with Cline House Gallery in Cornwall, ON, and again didn’t have the time or fortitude to bring the painting up to the level I’d initially envisioned. It was exhibited a second time in the sub-par state, seen below.
The sub-par finished state to meet an exhibit deadline
The first Covid quarantine in Ontario happened during the Cline House Gallery exhibit. Needless to say, soon after we hung the show, it all came down. The gift of that disappointment was that I was allowed the time to finish the painting and bring it to a level that I’m happy with.
To bring this work to completion, though, and in light of my realization of the practice of appropriation that made this painting possible, I need to acknowledge the symbols I’ve included in this composition, first from eastern traditions:
The figure is sitting in the lotus position: (half lotus to be accurate) a cross-legged sitting meditation pose from ancient India, in which each foot is placed on the opposite thigh. It is an ancient asana in yoga and is widely used for meditation in Hindu, Tantra, Jain, and Buddhist traditions.
She is a multi-armed figure: There are several Hindu deities that have multiple arms, like Vishnu and Ganesh, each with their own intentions and abilities. Here, though, I specifically related to the goddess Durga, whose incredible dualities allow her to be revered as both a nurturer and destroyer.
Her hands are in a Gyan mudra: A mudra is a hand gesture used during meditation that carries specific goals of channeling your body’s energy flow. The intention of the Gyan mudra is to improve your concentration and is great to use when seeking knowledge.
She is holding a mala: A mala is a string of 108 beads with one bead as the summit or head bead called a sumeru. Malas are used as a tool to help the mind focus on meditation or to count mantras in sets of 108 repetitions. Taking their name from the Sanskrit word for “meditation garland,” these strands were first created in India 3000 years ago and have connections to Hinduism, Buddhism, and yoga. Originally, mala beads were used for a special style of meditation called Japa, which means, “to recite.”
The sun at my heart center represents the awakening of my heart chakra.
The background palette incorporates some of the colors of the chakra system:
· Blue, Vishudi, Throat Chakra: This chakra asks us to vibrate higher; to synthesize, create, and express thoughts and feelings.
· Red: Muladhara, Root Chakra: The base or root of your whole chakra system, it supplies prana to the rest of the body, mind, and spirit.
· Orange: Svadisthana, Sacral Chakra: This chakra is the center of your creative and joyful experiences and transforms the root chakra’s earth energy for use in both creativity and pleasure.
· Yellow: Manipura, Solar Plexus Chakra: This chakra is the seat of your power and the primary source of your personal and professional success. It is your willpower, self-control, and the respect you hold for yourself and others.
· Green: Anahata, Heart Chakra: This chakra is the center of your being that connects the three lower physical-emotional main chakras to the three higher mental and spiritual chakras; it is where we vibrate with love for all beings.
Finally, the swirling water represents The Vortex, an ethereal understanding regarding conscious creation.
Intermixed with these symbols are references to other traditions as well, perhaps as part of my desire to make this painting reflective of my larger web of philosophical and personal influences:
Some of her fingers are black: Black fingers are a contemporary symbol of witchcraft used in some recent films about witches and witchcraft.
She is wearing striped socks: My ballet/yoga socks were usually sported in winter yoga classes. They were so worn that the toes wore away, which freed the ball of my feet and provided grip while I practiced. The sock kept my legs warm in early morning winter yoga classes when the room hadn’t had time to warm up yet…and they were stylish.
She has a halo: The word halo means golden, the round shape comes from the fact that the circle is a symbol of perfection, and therefore perfectly represents sanctity. In Christianity it is a symbol of light and grace given directly by God. A variation of the halo, the prabha, often appears on likenesses of the Buddha as well, making this symbol an important one as it relays the intersectionalities of philosophical and religious belief systems over history.
Portrait of a wolf and lion: They are my spirit animals and guides. I partook in a spirit quest with a Shaman and saw these animals come to me. According to certain Native American traditions the wolf brings forth instinct, intelligence, appetite for freedom, and awareness of the importance of social connections. Meanwhile, the lion represents courage and strength in overcoming difficulties. Both animals are believed to be protectors, guiding their people into their power in strength and safety. The colors of my eyes are echoed in each animal, symbolizing my symbiosis with them.
Her hair is blond: The ultimate white girl yogi.
She is wearing an alien bra: I often feel like an alien on earth. It also seemed fitting given the fact that it was bought on Coney Island during the Mermaid Parade.
She has a torso tattoo: This symbol is from the movie “The Dark Crystal”, a fantasy film made in the 1980s about the necessary balance of good and evil and the perils that can occur when one overpowers the other.
While I typically don’t care if my personal aims come through my work, this particular painting is different: this is the first painting I’ve ever created where I truly do want the viewer to understand my intention. Specifically, I want the viewer to understand that as much as I have appropriated all of these cultures and traditions, I aimed to do so with the utmost respect and appreciation. I want this message to resonate not because I desire sympathy, but rather because I want to take responsibility for myself and my ignorance while also celebrating everything I’ve gained from what I’ve learned.
I also see this painting as a message of optimism, as I hope that one day in the future we will all be able to share with and educate each other without judgment and in a way that elevates humanity and develops consciousness. We are in a tumultuous time of healing many wounds around race and culture, and healing takes time. In the midst of this transformation, I hope that viewers recognize the irony and humor in this painting and can have a little chuckle, at my expense and maybe at their own as well.