Laugh/Crying at Le Eiffel

Europe has truly kicked my ass BUT I’m still standing, which leaves me no other option but to believe that I am now Strong As Fuck. This trip has been a giant intro paragraph to an exciting new chapter for me.

​But tonight is my last night in Europe and I am so excited that tomorrow I will be HOME and sleeping in my OWN BED!! I’m also very excited to be spending this final evening in Brussels at the home of an absolutely amazing and beautiful fellow-badass whom I met at the yoga retreat. Sabine is everything I want to be now and always, and this evening is sure to include a couple bottles of white wine I purchased in Paris and possibly, hopefully, dear gawd yes please, an evening at one last Hammam spa – my little body could use it. Being so strong and amazing has left me quite Sore As Fuck as well.

A note from Future Jin - NONE of that happens HAHAHAHA oh jin, when will you learn?? You can't PLAN out your life!

​Paris was, of course, full of so much incredible adventure. After arriving a Hot Fucking Mess to my airbnb – I immediately had to get ready and head out to an amazing photo group shoot! The photographer, quite French, has spent time in San Francisco and speaks English well and contacted me randomly through model mayhem to pose for his group; a maximum of four photographers who have gotten together a couple times a month for the last six years. Like every other day of my life, it was a new and very interesting experience.

​One other photographer, who has also spent time in San Francisco (Europe seems to love that city!) spoke English pretty well too, and another had a little bit, and the fourth was all French. It was very curious, standing there listening to four men speak in French – what a beautiful and lazy language. I won’t be returning without a much better grasp of it. I’m still finding it impossible to mentally switch out of Spanish.

​The very first photographer, the very first look, instructed me to be as crazy as I wanted – which is always a nice surprise to hear at a shoot. I wondered about it being a communication error.. but I had the same request from another photographer as well. We shot more attitude/fashion/prop and wardrobe based set ups, but there was some glamorous and nude work in there as well (the glamour I just can’t turn off, especially when I’ve taken the time to actually curl my hair and wing my eyeliner). They all loved me. The host even booked me for an extra half hour past the shoot, and another photographer asked to book me yesterday, Saturday, but we could not find an agreement as far as length of shoot and rate (payment). He lives outside of the city, and it was my only free day in Paris. The requested 3 hour shoot would basically mean all of my day, so I wasn’t willing to be as flexible with my rate as I otherwise might have been. It was hard to say no to work, but my hubby says he’s proud of me. “If you want Jin to NOT be in Paris, it’s gonna cost you.” 

From France, with love <3

​The amazing first day ended with yours truly, having my first meal at midnight at a very nice restaurant/bar at the corner from my airbnb, drinking a 15 euro glass of champagne while basking in the glow of the Eiffel Tower (it lights up at night!). Also, directly across from me in the middle of the river that forks and surrounds the center of Paris before rejoining on the other side, was a small Statue of Liberty which, as told to me by my uber driver, was actually the first one, and also created by the same Masseur Eiffel. It’s cute. It’s like they’re sisters, staring out across the ocean at each other, connecting NYC to Paris and, if I know sisters, both are pissed that they’re wearing the same dress.

I closed the place down, and on the walk ‘home’ I howled at the half moon that silently watched down over the bustling city of Paris, and was delighted that a couple of the boys (servers) from the restaurant joined me.

As for my free day – oh my! What fun!! There’s so much I saw and did and it was all  basically NOTHING when you look at what the city has to offer!! First off, I said bonjour and did some crying at the site of the Eiffel Tower, before heading off ​ on another amazing metro adventure (it just makes so much sense!!!) to meet up with a friend from LA who has been here in Paris with another LA artist, working on their art for over the past month. Lisa and Carl were AMAZING tour guides, and put together an entire day of activities – just for me! What an incredible, meaningful gesture, and I enjoyed all of it. We stopped to pick up some lunch, explored the biggest art store ever (4 stories!), purchased fresh produce and, from a coin-operated vending machine, fresh squeezed orange juice, before heading to THE LOUVRE where both Lisa and Carl hold artist passes.

After enjoying our lunch at the Louvre dog park, Lisa’s favorite place, and strolling through the statue gardens admiring all the best butts the sculpture masters have to offer, not to mention a fortuitous visit from The Pigeon Master (a street performer who masterfully herds and juggles pigeons) they were able to sneak me in the back way and into the Louvre for some truly unforgettable and powerful art work.

I may be tied for best #WhiteGurlBootay in Paris!

​The Louvre by the way is fucking HUGE!! It’s a massive U shape with many stories and has three different wings. We had very little time to explore the massive place but I had the best leading me, and afterward they calculated that the hundreds of statues and paintings we saw equalled right about 70% of the top 10% of what the Louvre has to offer.

​​If you ask me, that’s exactly what I want to see at any museum. So, fucking success!

On our way back to their amazing loft up seven flights of winding stairs (kicking my ass, Europe!) in a beautiful old building on the east side of central Paris, we stopped at Hankburger – a vegan burger place Lisa found for me that also had To-Go cups of wine and bomb ass potato wedges. You wanna see Jin happy? Get her a big ass vegan burger, bomb ass tater wedges, and wine free of geographic restrictions in which to enjoy it, and you’ll likely have me skipping and sipping away.

As far as our evening activities, “This is probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever done,” exclaimed Lisa, and I couldn’t agree more. We spent the late evening in the loft, the moon visible 

​through the skylight, the rooftops and endless little chimneys of Paris sprawling out from the windows around us, sweet jazz music playing, and a naked Jin, being drawn by two very talented and amazing people, all while enjoying white wine, strawberries, and chocolate from the market at the bottom of the seemingly endless, winding, wooden stairs. My life really leaves so little to

complain about, despite all of my best efforts. At the end of the night, Carl and Lisa even donated to my still active GoFundMe (Hi guys!!! <3 ), even though the tour they gave me of the city was already an incredible gift for the short amount of time I spent posing for them. My life is full of beautiful people.

Arriving ‘home’ one last time, I said a final bonsior to the ol’ eiffel tower before heading up to my awesome bedroom, with it’s full wall of windows peering out over the vibrant and active city of Paris.

It was a truly magical day, and while it meant getting only about 4 hours sleep last night before today’s early morning photo shoot, I wish I could do it all over again and again and again. Lisa herself seems to feel more at home in Paris than she does in LA, and some big changes might be in her future. She’s already making quite an impact on the art community here, and despite her equally growing success in LA, I may soon have a permanent friend in Paris (oh no – how terrible! then I’d have to come back!). 

And speaking of, today’s photo shoot was once again a Curious and Fun Event. The photographer himself is an Italian man who lives and works in Japan, and is here in Paris on business, and who chose to hire and shoot an American model (yours truly) for a very international collaboration. He also got an unexpected and thorough workout, bringing up my fully loaded and heavy-as-fuck suitcase to his 7th floor loft on the west side of central Paris. The only thing I can say in my defense is that this is actually the lightest I have ever packed for a trip EVER and I actually went through and removed extra items three times in the final 48 hours before I left. That being said, he has roughly a 89% chance of a hernia. Also, he was rewarded with a kiss (on the cheek) after successfully bringing my bag back down all those god damn steps.

It's ok, he’s Italian; Kisses from ladies are like currency in his home country.

The shoot was a lot of fun and the in-camera results were quite beautiful and varied; from soft, natural light and nude and lingerie work, to edgy, blown out fashion on the steep steps to the loft itself, as well as some well-lit jin-being-jin on the kitchen counter. He was a delight and helped me walk my bag of bricks to the nearest metro station, for one last adventure through the underground rail lines of Paris. I’m so sad to see it go, despite how happy my heart and back is to be returning home. The city of Paris has always called to me, and finally seeing it was such a dream, and the brevity of my visit only adds to the surrealism. Maybe it has in fact all been a dream. But what is life, if not a fleeting dream itself? I’m excited to stay sleeping and enjoying this dream, at least for one more day. 

Tomorrow, my weeklong yoga retreat, followed by a four country, 6 city adventure in just 9 days, comes to an end. And that is probably the strangest thing I have typed  in this entire ‘Secret Journal.’ How can I possibly go home the same person as the one that arrived, after such an incredible adventure? I’ve been forced over and over again to put my faith in the universe, to allow myself the freedom to spend a little money in order to experience new things, and to take care of my body when it needs it. I’ve had to push myself mentally, physically, and culturally on a daily basis. My connection to my mind and my body is seeping in to the rest of my life, and I’m doing my damnest to live in the present moment, and to feel and know this new strength I am allowing to grow. I’ve made new friends and important connections from all across the world, all set in beautiful backdrops that can only be described as something from a fairy tale. I’ve been a part of incredible artwork that, like the hundreds of statues at the Louvre that brought me to tears, is meant to go on and exist past me, to be something more than just myself, and I got to place my hands and cheeks against stone structures that have existed for hundreds and hundreds of years, and that I hope will exist for hundreds more. This entire trip was funding by dozens of people by way of a gofundme campaign that was shared hundreds of times, mostly by people with whom I’ve never met in person, and it’s all so truly significant to a giant shift in my life and the way I live and travel and love. And through it all, I have still found a way to bitch, I have still found a way to stress out, I have still found a way to sink into a pit and linger there, and so through it all I am still very much so me. And that is all very much so OK. I like me, and I hope to like me more every day, and to become someone who is a bit more productive, a bit more positive, and a whole lot more relaxed, because it was only in those moments that this whole trip was even possible.

It was in those moments that this trip truly existed.
​

A final thank you, one last time, to every one who has given, for everyone who is reading, and for every one who just sees me – not as just another white gurl bootay on instagram – but as an artist, who insists on putting her white gurl bootay on instagram. You’re all amazing, and I can’t wait to see how and where your love and support takes me next. XoXo Ciao Jin

A pic from Future Jin - My ambien-filled face upon arriving home in LA <3

P​S oh yeah – I get two days at home in LA and then I’m off to Hawaii!! Don’t expect more than a couple posts from that, it is most definitely going to be a vacation away from my vacation, filled with nothing but rest, relaxation, two photoshoots, finalizing a couple scripts, starting the editing of seven different youtube videos, organizing all the photos from this trip, preparing my patreon to finally launch, storyboarding a top secret project taking place over the course of the next three years, publically unveiling my latest book project, scheduling and submitting my next short film into a national film contest, nailing down dates for my next three months of travel (LA, San Francisco, Utah, Wyoming, Idaho), manifesting my way into Burning Man, attending a family wedding, daily yoga, building core strength, laying on the beach, and maybe some light reading. It’s not much, but it’s just a four day trip, and I’d hate to overdue it. Love you, bitches. Jin.

"tell me liiiies tell me sweet little lies" ..

M​y Cannes Film Festival sponsor T.C. of TomCat Films mentioned that the motto of France is, "Oh, you assumed so? No." For example, when I went to do laundry and headed to the front desk to break a 20 euro bill - just a 20, not like, a fifty or a hundred or something *crazy* just a damn 20 so that I could do 9 euros worth of laundry - they informed me that sorry, we don't have change; ask the restaurant. So I go to the restaurant (literally right next to the counter) and they say - sorry, we don't have any change, ask the front desk.

This was the start of my day.

Seriously, how do you run a business without 20 euros worth of change?? < ---  I yelled and laughed and yell/laughed into the weird trees and the strong, bitter wind outside of the lobby on my way back to our room - a walk I made roughly 13 times this morning.

It's a long, boring story, but I did end up taking my laptop into the laundry room for the roughly 2 1/2 hours, and 8 french people, that it took to accomplish doing one single load of laundry. Happy ending to this story - I'm currently wearing clean socks and jammies after a very, very, very long day. It feels amazing.

But that beautifully explains my entire french experience thus far! I think the front desk was so so sick of me by the time I headed up to ask for the shuttle, roughly around 3pm after they all got back from their nap hour or whatever, that they just said no. No there is no shuttle that has existed for 20 years and that T.C. claims is still totally listed on the check in papers as available every half hour. But here is a bus schedule and here is a map and here is some incorrect directions and au revoir!! 

It took me roughly two hours to get the 20 minutes from this hotel into Cannes.

But oh, what a beautiful, scenic, and unique two hours it was. And I got to wonder around the tiny city, in the hot ass sun and the bitter ass wind, and RETRIEVED MY NEW DEBIT CARD from last night's restaurant and even made a beautiful new friend there. It is these random connections that I am truly trying to dive into, as they have all been just so damn sincere. 

It took some decompressing a bit, but I got to enjoy the city. I shared graciously on instagram, facebook, twitter, and even got a couple of periscope videos to work(!!), plus some promotional stuff for TomCat as per our arrangement; I also walked the red carpet right before George Clooney and Juila Roberts did; I ate almost an entire pizza to myself along

Follow @TheJinNTonic on Persicope for live videos and chat! <3

with a french cappucinno and a german cigarette; and I had about seven glasses of delicious, free champagne at the official VIP party on the beach that I tooootally wasn't invited to (I love crashing a good party) ​- all while looking a hot ass mess, in my travel boots, with my hair looking like the fucking Heath Ledger version of the joker, what with the wind and all the seriousness and such.

How every meal begins in France - I have never, ever, not ever liked green olives. Never. I even gave them another try in San Fran right before flying out and nope - still wasn't a fan. And you know what? Now? Holy fuck I can't get enough of them SOMEONE BRING ME GREEN OLIVES!!

So of course it's been an odd and beautiful and odd and beautiful and exhausting and odd and beautiful day. As with all of my travel thus far, it is very clear that one full day at the Cannes Film Festival is NOT enough, and I'm looking forward to next year coming legitimately for the full week and working alongside TomCat and also, working hard as I do every day to build up the JNT army! It has been a fun experience being here along with all the new people I've met, but I am looking forward to returning to traveling solo in morning. My train leaves in 6 1/2 hours. 
bonne nuit, 
XoXo
​JNT

Ta-Da!! Just in time for Golden Hour... And Happy Hour!

​My darling friend Ted Chalmers of TomCat films, the distributing company for a number of the shitty B horror films that I have starred in - is here, and has hired me to do some social PR shizz for him tomorrow at the event. Along with him is an asshole from the eastcoast (which is fine to say because he decidedly is one), and two very wunderbar German men, one older and a well traveled DJ who is also hilarious, and another much chiller one around my age that I at first thought was Clay Aiken. 

Winning all the Oscars in 2017 - Keep your eye out for this semi-polished turd.

Holy fuck am I tired.

And in less than seven hours begins another amazing day! So type faster JIn, dammit!

The most amazing part of all of this trip has been the many mini-relationships I end up having. These momentary connections with some truly incredible people really stand out. On the train a woman sat down and asked me in French about using my phone charger so she could call her boyfriend. Turns out she's Italian, and we chatted a bit in English about how all the electronics in her life have been failing her lately (I could hear Trina Merry in my head talking about the retrograde of Mercury as she said this).

After she left, another woman asked to come sit with me and wanted to chat since she overheard that I'm from LA. (I was seated solo at a four person table on my second train of the day which I will compare to Greyhound, while the morning train was quite the Megabus experience - some of you other world travelers know what I'm talking about). She was also an Italian woman, also working in France, and had spent a year in San Francisco and had even spent time in Idaho of all places. She said it was pretty - which is the exact same response I give when people ask me about what it was like growing up there. Some things are universal.

Sidebar: That might also be a big truth bomb to some of you. Yes I am married, yes I grew up in Idaho. Those two things aren't exactly publicized because aa;lkdfjasl;dkfjasoidfn who cares, some things I like to have for myself and some things really don't benefit me at all for anyone else to know. I'll let you guess as to which is which.

Back to the trains! What lovely ladies! Even our cab driver in Florence, for Trina and I this morning to the train station, was excited to hear that we were from California, as he LOVED the United States AND it's onion rings, and had spent a month traveling the US with his wife for their honeymoon. They had both very much so wanted to return ASAP but were surprised with a baby instead - a baby which he says is surely a Californian Baby.

How amazing is that?? How charming and wonderful and just absolutely delightful that all those people came and left in my life so perfectly?

​Seriously. What are the odds. 

Plus, my train salad was delicious and adorable. Train people are nice, and so are teeny tiny salad dressing bottles.

Laundry still hasn't happened. Not yet once on this trip. It seems rather difficult to find a washer, and then purely impossible to find a dryer. And while I could totally sink wash some dainties, I would rather not pack, transport, and then later wear still-damp socks and skivvies. So tomorrow, one way or another, I'm taking care of it before heading to the film festival. It just won't be good for the health of myself or others if I don't. I will single handedly reintroduce the black plague to this beautiful land.

XoXo
JNT

PS have i mentioned that i'm in fucking france?? Holly fuck is it beautiful. and weird. This 'resort' hotel doesn't even give you toilet paper and the front desk and bar and everything else close at 8pm plus during nap time and anytime before 11am and so you can just fend for your fucking self in a country where the ONLY english that I have seen so far has been the word "exit" on exit signs. I love it.

PPS ​oh! also! darling ted brought my darling new debit card with him from the states - how sweet is he? - and I'm 95% sure that I lost it already which is ok because it is a truly hideous color. I'll figure something out somehow.. (apparently all it takes for me to find my zen is a giant beer and a nice glass of wine..)

hard to see, but there's me, looking like a giant, bald freckle, and the absolutely delightful Trina Merry without whom many of my life's adventures would not have been possible, and sprawling behind us is the beautiful city of Florence. It was good to us. Click da pic for a look at some of my other adventures with this incredible artist!

​​How else could a day start with an egregiously overpriced cab ride and a smelly, crowded, baby-fueled, (did I mention smelly??), early-ass, international flight, followed by three hours of misdirections, miscommunications, and dragging the world's heaviest suitcase through the cobble-stoned streets of central Florence, resulting in many tears in an Italian post-office, and ultimately spending roughly the same on cab fare as I would have if I had avoided all of that to begin with, still end with seeing the sights and sounds of Italy, being painted completely nude in the gardens surrounding a gorgeous, historic Italian villa, to the admiration, curiosity and genuine support of a dozen incredible, talented, female artists from across the world, only to be rewarded with one of the most decadent, mostly-vegan meals of my life,* all capped with a good, cheap, unforgettable bottle of local, white wine?

Trina Merry. That's how.

salute!

And all of you. Thank you.

I mean, Grazzi! 

Seriously, I need to learn Italian.

When Trina asked me what I might want to accomplish with my ONE NIGHT here in Italy, I told her: Get nekkid, Get painted (by Trina Merry), and get drunk.

Mission: accomplished, accomplished, and ma'fuckin Accomplished.

And then some. (Shhhhh, please don't tell youtube about the nips! only you guys have the link to this vid!)

Thank you so much, Trina!! And endless thanks to you, and the beautiful Frederica of Palmerina Estates, who has not only opened up her family's property to artists from all around the world, but who also thoroughly embraced Trina's unique art form. Frederica stands tall as a proud, confident, and talented woman herself with an incredible life of adventure behind and ahead of her, and she gave me many incredible gifts today - the privilege to be here on her estates being one of them; good wine and compassionate conversation another; and a personalized copy of "Chaplin and Costa," being possibly the most dear to me.

Thank you for supporting artists such as Trina and myself, and thank you for being just So. Damn. Italian. Ti amo, Frederica!

My short visit to this beautiful country has only left me wanting more. .. More bread, more wine, (more sleep!), and more Art.
I'll be returning to Italy Springtime 2018 at the latest for more indescribable magic.

Buenasera,
Jin

** Check out L'ortone on facebook - for anyone in or traveling to Florence, I cannot say enough good things about this place. The evening ended with tequila shots with the owner. Salute!

making friends and fun shapes in new places and getting soaked in the rain at the "Arc De Triomf"

And of course there was in fact a truly overwhelming amount of adventure around the beautiful Gothic Area of Barcelona as well. I wouldn't go all the way to Spain just to stay in my room! (As tempting as that always is...)

 It's currently 8am and I've been up for three hours already.

Yesterday was the first and only day of the last 12 days of adventure that I wasn't up before the sun. You'd think it would have been magical, but I actually still woke up at 4, 5, 6, and finally 10.30am, each time quite stressed and confused and worried about being late to yoga.

Oh brain, you are so good to me.

I'm typing this out from my window seat aboard my short, tiny flight to Florence, Italy where I'll be meeting up with my dear friend and world-traveling, world-famous bodypainter, Trina Merry, and I'll let you take a guess as to what we'll be doing when I arrive . . . (The whole point of this trip is to spread my #WhiteGurlBootay around the world, remember?).

I've currently got my scarf wrapped around my face as this plane reeks of cigarettes and perfume (Travel tip from Jin, always wear a scarf). And by "the plane reeks", I mean the plane, and the people on it. Even the loud, loud, loud children smell like cigarettes and perfume. Especially the children. I feel like I should probably just accept that this smell will define my next 24 hours - haha! Oh Italians. 

Just to continue bitching because I'm so good at it, and then I promise I'll tell you all about how wonderful (and wonderfully expensive) Barcelona was, there's some things I really miss about home. . . 

Like my cat and my husband and the Hollywood sign and having the option of driving somewhere and some goddamn DECENT wifi.. But I also am really, really starting to miss not being run into by other people. Like, all the fucking time. 

I know I'm pretty travel sized, and my presence can be quite timid at times, but I've gotten pretty good at projecting the fact that, Hey, this is the time and space that Jin is currently occupying and no you may not occupy it with me. The Spanish though? No fucks given. None. Even when I have my full backpack and huge suitcase and it's impossible to misconstrue my particular space as empty, every where I go and from all directions people are running into me.

A woman in the park yesterday, as I'm standing there, just *standing there!* not even like a moving object you have to calculate how to miss beforehand based on trajectory and size and wind and etc. I was just fucking standing there; and a woman ran into me as she walked by. I looked behind me, as I was not facing that way anyway, and there was a full 8 feet of cobblestone path behind me that was available to her. .... Why is this OK?? It's not even like a matter of personal space, it's just rude and affecting us both! We're BOTH being bumped. Why do you want this????

So there's that. I'm sure the Italians will be much more considerate when it comes to personal space.... (Hahaha!! I make myself laugh! I'm also tolerating a fair amount of contact between my forearm and that of the woman next to me who, unlike any American I have ever met, thinks an armrest is totally shareable with a stranger.)

Please know that I'm not at all bitter, it's just early and my twelve minute taxi to the airport cost me $40+ fucking dollars and one of the babies on the plane is literally crying like this :

"EUuuugggnnbhhhBlaaAAaahhhBlaaaAAAaahhhBlaaAAAaaahhh!!"

Maybe she's just commenting on my writing. 

Enough blah blah, bitch (the baby says) and get on with the magic that is Europe and your life, you lucky asshole!

She/He/It's right.

Barcelona was in fact amazing. My Airbnb was right next to Las Ramblas which everyone warned me about which is dumb. It was like a long outdoor area of tourists and souvenir shops and lots and lots of places to eat and drink and laaaaauuuugh and of course lots of pick pockets I'm sure. That was the main warning, but I'm not an idiot and I keep everything important in my bra anyway (there's your second JNT approved travel tip for this blog post - both free of charge!).

I was also warned not to go there at night, or to really go out at all at night, which is also dumb, as there's literally more people out at night than during the day. Locals and families even. And soooooo many children. Jesus Christ with the children.

The Gothic Area where I was staying is nothing but incredible architecture, history, art, and people from literally all over the world, and it's right on the water which I could see from my third floor balcony (4th floor balcony actually, as the buildings here start at zero - this is important to note because most places don't have elevators and have I mentioned just how weak and small and Amuuurican I am and just how HUGE and heeaeaaaavvvvvyyyy *whiney* my backpack and suitcase is??).

Everything in that area is old as fuck, and even the post office looked like royalty used to live there. And just down the street from me, like seriously two blocks maybe, was a gorgeous, massive basilica (a giant ass Catholic Church) that made me cry the moment I walked in. I spent five minutes just touching a massive stone wall, wondering at the story of the unearthing, shaping, and transport of just ONE such massive piece of stone, and despite never having done so before, had someone been available I would have stepped into a both to confess my sins.

This is the second time in my life that I have found myself, moved to tears, and just a wee bit hungover, inside a basilica in a Spanish speaking country (the first time was in Costa Rica in 2009, pre-model life).

During my Barcelona wanderings I took lotsa photos and video, to come, and I left my cellphone service off and successfully found my way around by Feelings and landmarks. None of it led me astray, and I saw so much without even really trying. That's the way I love to travel. I meandered though a giant park, a couple museums and photo galleries, LOTS of narrow, cobblestone streets full of endless shops, and ate at a vegan burger and beer place called CatBar (but no cats! Sad!). It was all incredible.

​Especially the burger.

vegan burger, taters, and cider .. i could eat this every day of my life.

All of this adventure sammiched an absolutely life-rejuvenating three hours I spent yesterday in a massive, underground spa. (Jealous? You should be.)

The setting was incredible and HUGE, and featured low lighting; tepid, cold, hot, coldest (it was filled with ice!), and salt water pools; heated marble platforms with tea; plus a steamroom. They also of course offered massage and other services, but it was all booked for the next three days! Why can't I just find someone to rub my shoulders for ten minutes, dammit?? Still, it was an incredibly relaxing experience. I'd never been in a salt water pool before, and the significant thing of that in salt water you float, like, 100% float - and so I hooked my toes in the little metal bar at the edge of the pool and I just floated back and forth, back and forth, like a seahorse wrapped around a peace of kelp, silent and weightless and not a care in the world. I had a very hard time letting my neck relax (OOOOOH JIIIIIIIIIN . . . )

 I also purchased all my postcards for you amazing people(!), and even got to chat with a number of you via Skype from my Airbnb balcony!! The wifi was of course a massive pain in the ass, but it was so fun and fabulous getting to see and chat with so many of you! Thank you!! It was truly a wonderful experience for me. Once again, I wouldn't even be here without you, and then what once-in-a-lifetime experiences would I bitch about!!
(I would find something.. but still)

So now I'm off to the next adventure - Florence, Italy!!
​Ciao.
​
XoXo
JNT

better internet connection.. that way! "to america!"

​What else about today?

Well, it's 11pm so the street below me is RAGING, I'm not even half a block from the port of Barcelona and the architecture here is amazing. This area is known as the Gothic Area and it's also a giant tourist hub, as most of Spain is.

I ran into a very unique problem today - I couldn't find anyone to take my picture with some pretty lions around one of the main statues, because no one I encountered spoke neither Spanish nor English. A first in my life!

You mean speaking TWO languages isn't enough to get by with in this world??

So I took pictures of the herds of bros and children instead.

Italy, France, and Belgium are fast approaching and are going to be a good deal of fun. I'm not so much nervous, as I know it will be OK, but oh my do I hate being That Gurl, in any context. This one being - That *American* Gurl - "Excuse me, do you speak ENGLISH??" Ugh. What an asshole.

The train ride here from Malaga was very pleasant, and the passing scenery was very, very pretty. I even got some work accomplished! (Oh shit, I need to email Robert!) Plus, not really a nap, but I did enjoy 40 minutes with my eyes closed.

mandatory bathroom selfie on the train - two hands was required.

Eating vegan has proven impossible today. My first rushed, early morning decision I realized later was probably 90% egg (they call it a tortilla, I believe we'd call it a polenta in the states?) and, when I commented at a restaurant earlier that I noticed they had a veggie burger (I was excited), they took that as - bring her the damn veggie burger! - which required me to scrape off a good amount of cheese and some sauce that was far too fatty and delicious to be anything good for me.

But it's ok!

I've had half a bottle of amazing $4 white wine from the market across the street now, so food is pointless, right?

omg... I could eat. What time is it? fuck - I definitely should eat! how the hell has it been seven hours??? 

As always, time is weird and totally relative and it's the end of the night and I feel like I've accomplished nothing I've set out to do BUT I had some incredible skype calls (incredibly full of technical difficulties too! oh Spain.. your "weefee" is a joke!) and I had so much fun chatting with some of my amazing gofundme-ers!

I also ventured down to the port spent what I consider an unforgivable amount of money on an amazing, silver, skull ring that I absolutely love. It cost a little over $40 and I am quite confident it's worth about $2 in silver. BUT it's ALMOST small enough to fit my finger, I'll hopefully have it forever, and you have to get ripped off at least once in some touristy bullshit spot on every trip, right? So here's my rip off.

I'll just ignore the pit in my stomach . .

I also typically never spend more than $5 on a ring because I actually do lose them, like, a lot. ( < --- future Jin is laughing right now - Just wait for Paris! No worries, there's a Happy Ending)

You guys are awesome! Tomorrow is my last full day in Spain and I have so much to do!

XoXo
JNT

PS besides a couple quick mountain poses and forward bends.. today has been without yoga. I feel bad.. but also know that a day off is good. So instead of feeling guilty, I'm just going to feel committed to tomorrow's, likely hungover practice. Ciao y besos - Jin

Skype with Jin is In-Session!

exhausted dinner face - where's mah veggies!!

​I'm currently in Fuengirola, a quaint city on the southern coast of Spain filled with a lot of diversity and the very distinct presence of some Saudi Arabian princes. No joke. They drive gold plated and regular plated Ferraris and have dinners at the White House that they enjoy so thoroughly, there is now a replica white house in their compound.

I'm laying in my little bed in my little hotel room not half a block from the Mediterranean sea, which I can see from my window should I be so inclined, and I am so happy to be here.

Travels went good, food was tricky but when I got some it was also very good, the photo shoot went GREAT and I am stoked for the images and for this new connection with such an interesting and talented man (a Spanish born, Australian raised, retired government sharp shooter - Everything is fun with Arturo around!). We are already discussing my return to Spain for Christmas...! 

the last shot - 'pose however you'd like!' - i always do . . .

I also got a little bit of work done on the bus ride, including some model mayhem responses, scheduling skype sessions with my incredible gofund-ers (so excited to chat with you bitches!) and, the best part, I finally have service on my phone! Which meant not only finally joining the yoga retreat group in what's app (an international text app) - after the fact of course, yay jin! - but also, my first actual phone conversation with my overly-mustachiod man back home.

And while you may think that these "journal" entries have been a big vent - you have NO idea the things I have NOT been saying. This has all been quite, quite mild. And it felt So. Good. to finally release all my trivial little bullshit nothings to my soulmate/bitchingpartner. When we started talking I nearly starting crying because it was like, omg, I actually get to TALK to somebody about all of this!!

He gets it, he's a cynical bitch just like me. We're not really mad about whatever we're bitching about, but it was something small and annoying at the time and if I don't just SAY it, it'll stay inside me and eat away at my soul forever. And after the last 10 days, there was a LOT eating at my soul.

​He was about 2 hours late to work.

But happily so. And I am happily about to get a full SEVEN HOURS of sleep, before Arturo returns to graciously take me to my train in Malaga, and off I go at 300km an hour (whateverthefuck that is) to *Barcelona*!!

One thing I have heard over and over for years, is that Barcelona is where it is at. And for me, that "it" will include skype calls, a MASSAGE (oh yes, please, dear gawd), laundry would be awesome, lots and lots of writing, and probably a cup or two of vino. Plus some visits to Gaudi blah blah blah other touristy things and finding a vegan restaurant recommended by the dear Javier where I will likely just live at for my brief Barcelona duration.

Thank you my darlings, for all that you do!
​Muchisimas Besos for you!

Jin

​​I'm supposed to forgive myself though, for my incomprehensible lack of productivity today, and my inability to just man up and get over a sore shoulder, ya poor li'l baby (I'm doing well so far as you can see), so that I can Let Go and Move On for tomorrow. These six hours of sleep will do me wonders, I know it. 

And they fucking better! Today was the last full day of the retreat, and tomorrow I make my way to the southern coast of Spain for my first European photo shoot!

I know that while, as always, this week wasn't nearly what I wanted it to be as far as accomplishments with work, and that I don't feel like I've really leveled up my yoga at all (I know, that's a lot to ask of just one week but fuck, it was about 20 hours in 7 days! Come on! Shouldn't I at least be like waaaay thinner??), along with many other much nicer reasons that I am sad this week has gone by so fast, I know that a lot of these emotions I'm feeling are because I am *ready* for the next leg of this adventure.

I'm ready to be able to walk outside and see people and music and to go where I want and to find someone that will just rub my shoulders professionally for ten minutes please Gawd. And as lovely as our final dinner was, truly, and the food of course very much so succeeding at being the loveliest of all, I'm really ready to sit and eat alone; something I did for the first time at 15 and loved doing instantly. I often find new places to enjoy a meal alone at, and doing so while traveling is one of my favorite things. Although, doing so since I've chosen to follow a vegan diet has made it quite a bit more challenging, and I'm pretty sure that I actually am already dying like for real as my path has now parted from that of our dearest vegan chef Javier, who returned home today to gather his foods and his herbs for his next group of lucky sumbitches that he'll be creating food art/love for. 

Even the carnivores were very happy with this incredible, vegan spaghetti and salad meal (I would literally kill someone for a bottle of that salad dressing right now)

The evening yoga class I did in fact stay after, to indulge in that cry. It wasn't nearly as cathartic or relieving as the occurrence after the Kundolini class, but Karen was right as usual. I definitely didn't let out as much as I wanted to Wednesday(?) morning. So hopefully it did me some good; To cry in a yoga Shala, in the mountains, in the rain, in Spain, just myself, in various lazy hip and shoulder stretches, all while wrapped up in a blankee. 

Aaaaaaaaye. 

It was a bit of a sad day, but a Good Day of course. I am Alive and Healthy and oh so fucking Tired but pushing myself and learning and learning and I am so sick of learning and I should be able to get more sleep than this come Sunday once I am nice and nestled in the bosom of Barcelona.

I will miss this place, and especially Patricia and Antonio who currently run this property for the owners and who also create yoga workshops all over the world (California next please!). I had many lovely conversations with Patricia, (check out SeaOfCalm.com) who is so sincere in her questions and to whom I felt instantly pulled towards. The answers I gave were honest, as usual, but a little more so even, and terribly riddled with Spanglish. So terrible. She still asked though and she still listened and she taught me a lot of words and helped me a lot in a lot of ways, all while never blinking.

Spanish people don't blink when they talk to you. They all have eyes the colors of the mountains and they just smile and speak rapidly and stick their tongue out a lot and talk right into your eyeballs the whole entire time. She's a beautiful person, and her partner, Antonio, is equally helpful and sincere, and is your total cliche, overly-boisterous Spanish man; When he laughs, the world laughs with him.

Coming back from dinner the first night I was - surprise! - quite grumpy if you recall, and I don't even remember what he had said, but he made himself laugh, and laughing made him laugh, and it's just him and three tiny yoga ladies in a car going up a mountain in the middle of nowhere on spanish Mother's Day and he is LAUGHING. And while I didn't have the energy to join in, his laughter fanned the fire in my heart to glow just a little bit. Antonio laughs a lot, and there is never any shame in his laughter either. He doesn't even notice if you are laughing along with him - this shit isn't for you.

So from them both I have learned a lot. Of my darling yoga teachers, Karen's instruction has been practically all that I want in a yoga session and she is an incredible example of what eating well and being dedicated to your practice can do for you and your physique. Our other instructor, Rua, is beyond sweet and caring and has given me so much, including this trip, and a dozen hugs and encouragement into that dreaded meditative practice and even a bottle of powerfully magenta nail polish.  When she asked my opinion of her teachings I was politely honest about how much I absolutely want to tear my hair out the entire time, and Rua has been nothing but understanding, empathetic, incredibly knowledgable and super sweet.

A little info - Rua's particular style of yoga, Hatha Yoga, is all about making time and space for the mind - and while I have relatively good control of my body, I have never, ever had any control of my mind. Hence a lifetime of constant distraction, and the reason why I "hate" her classes ( I do/don't/do mean that), which is exactly the reason why I pushed myself to go every day. Well, every day that is minus the one, during which I took a nap and I'm trying to convince myself I'm ok with, especially as I did wake up at 4am the next day for the impromptu class of Rocket Yogi Vibration Mind Fuck I mean Kundolini Yoga. (See previous post) 

And now I have about five hours until tomorrows emotional/physical roller coaster begins. Endless thank you's to the creators and orchestrators of this retreat, for all of you, coming together to get me here, and to my fellow yogaruka students. It's been fun kinda maybe let's just say it was because it really truly was I'm just such a cynical bitch sometimes most times i'm trying but really you are all SO beautiful and I love you all and it was a distinct pleasure getting to know each and every one of you.
. . . 
​For the most part ;)

XoXo
​Jin <3

Two Spaniards, One Happy Vegan, Two Yogis, 3 Aussies, 1 Brit, 1 Norwegian (Scandinavian?), 1 Belgium Waffle, and One Little World-Traveling Badass aka Yours Truly.

Just to go back a little bit on yesterday, not much I promise, but I wanted to share a bit more about the incredible experience I had. There was many of them of course (I conquered a castle in the sky so... there's one for ya), but I want to write about The Big One. The Truly Important one. The Rare kind of one. One of those Life Changing moments, that aren't as completely, immediately life-changing the way you wish and think and hope they are like in the movies, but in a very real way each one is an Important Step, that now dwells deep inside you, and grows stronger only if you nurture it, and add to it. Like exercising your body, you don't see the results after one visit to the gym, but each visit is important, and collectively that hard work is what makes The Real Changes. Yesterday, was a mental day at the gym - and I got my ass kicked by it.

I started yesterday, as I often do, waking up from a really intense dream. This dream was very unique for me, in so much that it was one in which I was very upset (which is usual of all my dreams - dream jin is rarely just having a nice time of things. In fact, now that I think about it, I don't think that's ever happened..) but it wasn't an upsetting dream in itself. Usually, in my dream I am despondent, and wake up that way. But yesterday morning, I was upset in dream world, but I woke up feeling hopeful, and curious, and Lighter as a result.

My mother was there, in my dream, and I was confiding in her. This is important, because it has never happened before. Not in dream world, and almost never in the waking world either. The story of my mother and I is not a pretty one, nor a happy one, and after about four years of not seeing her, and very rarely talking to her, she died, in a sad, terrible, and lonely way, back in 2012.

This was a grand occurrence in my life of course, that ultimately set me on this path of full-time, traveling model-ness. Now for some really personal info - I used to dream of my mother fairly frequently, and every time it was bitter, and hateful, and we would fight terribly and ultimately I would beat her. And I would take joy in beating her.

After she died, it stopped for a while, but every now and then, I still dream of being in my childhood home, and for some reason I live there, we all do again, and my mother and I fight, and eventually it elevates to the point that I start hitting.

This happens with a couple others in dream world, my stepfather being one, who's an asshole but human, so probably has it coming but I should just forgive and let go, and my husband sadly being the other, who is a sweet, incredible man who has earned and receives all my love, but unfortunately along with that, all my hatred too. (My apologies to those of you that I just dropped the H-Bomb on, not many know that I am married).

For all of my adult life however, it is mostly my mother whom I physically attempt to destroy. In this dream though, she was giving me advice. She was listening. She was talking to me. And when I broke and started to cry, she held me, and into her chest I sobbed "Oh Mom..." and even in dream world I had the thought, 'Why does that feel so strange? Why does it feel so unnatural for the word "Mom" to come out of my mouth..?'

After I woke up, it occurred to me, oh yeah, because I don't have a mom, and growing up I never truly felt like I did either. There are few moments in my life I can think of in which she comforted me, and none of them involved me crying into her embrace, and uttering those words, "Oh Mom.."

And it felt so good to say. It was a warmth and a relief and a bittersweet feeling in my heart that I've never had before.

It was a gift, I think, for my mother to visit me in my dream, and to hold me, and tell me that everything would be OK, in a way that I don't recall ever happening in real life.

That's not to say that it never happened in real life, that my mom and I never had a moment of peace and trust together. I am actually fairly certain that, excluding my very young years, that it didn't ever happen - but one thing that I am skilled at is only remembering the bad, only seeing the bad, only feeling the bad - hence why these brief experiences of relief, of happiness, of stillness, of joy, are so precious and so. damn. strange. I fight them tooth and nail, but I'm fighting even harder to experience them more and more, and to learn to be a person who sees and feels and has faith in the good in life. And yesterday was a very, very powerful experience of all those things.

Have I mentioned our amazing, vegan Chef, Javier yet? I'm kidding of course - he's amazing and I need to stop writing about him so much, especially now that you all know that I'm married . . . And I will right after this.

Well, Javier has many gifts that he shares freely with the world, one of them being his instruction in a certain type of yoga called Kundalini (when I made a reference between Kundalini and cunnilingus aka oral sex, everyone gave me weird looks - but I felt justified in the comparison when our first instruction was to make sure that with every breath you squeeze in your anus and then your genitals and then your lower belly. so... yeah...).

Yesterday's long day was made extra long, as Javier granted us a great gift, and taught an introductory class of this style yoga at 5 in the morning. 

A brief description, besides your breath starting from you anus, is that you go through a series of movements, typically for about three minutes each - although gracias a dios the longest we went with each movement was one minute - all while utilizing "fire breath," short, powerful, rapid exhales, allowing the inhales to happen involuntarily. The entire time you focus on your third eye, and, of course, squeezing that anus, or, as darling Javier pronounces it, "anoose."

The class begins and ends with group chanting, and at the end is the most powerful experience of all. From some, ceremonious box, Javier opens and begins to play an instrument that I cannot describe, because I did not see it, and also, because I have never heard such sounds before, and cannot even imagine the instrument that would create them.

These incredible sounds occurred, whilst we laid there in the dark of the premorning, completely relaxed in body and, the intention is, completely relaxed in mind as well. And while we lay there in shavashana or Corpse Pose, Javier plays, and Javier *sings* and it is unlike anything you have ever heard. And with whatever the fuck that insturment is and with his singing, the entire room vibrates, the entire universe vibrates, and if you allow yourself to do so, you vibrate right along with it all.

And so I laid there, refreshed and relaxed and recovering from all the movement, all the breath, embracing the vibrations and thinking of this positive gift from my mother, of her kind words, her embrace, and her sympathy, and I did my best to experience each vibration.

You know how they say, to be more enlightened, you have to vibrate at a higher level? This is absolutely a literal concept, and I did my best yesterday to reach out towards that higher level and vibrate my way to a better understanding, and I felt it, I felt myself break through, mind and body fighting it every step of the way, but I relaxed and I breathed and I vibrated and I pushed through anyway.

The path to happiness, in many teachings, is to become an empty vessel, and to let the universe fill you with what it will, and to embrace that. I think it'd be more accurate to become an empty, hollow tube, and allow through you to flow the powers of the universe, both Good and Bad, and you hold on to none of it, you just lay there, hollow and open and allow these things to flow.

So I lied there, empty, open, and let this alien, hypnotic, unbelievable song and sound flow through me, and I felt within myself, my emotions, my being, my vibrations, all reckoned to a rocket, blasting through the earth's atmosphere, damned be gravity, forcing my way through, each layer thicker and more difficult and pushing back on me harder, but my vibrations rising higher and higher and the power of us, all of us, resonating within me, pushing me further and further to a higher and higher level. And despite the weight of gravity; my negative emotions, my emotional hang ups - despite god; what we are told is possible and what is not - and despite the difficulty; how easy it is, how often it has been that I have stayed, bitter and miserable and choosing still to wallow in depression - continuing onward and upward despite it all until finally, the breaking point, when everything vibrates through your bones, your teeth, your eyes, your skin, down to each cell, the energy of which we are all made of, vibrating higher and higher and higher and the crescendo reaching a point you do not think possible, your exhales, your "OHM"s louder and louder and with more power, vibrating right along the path set out by the sounds and song of our conductor, our light, our guide, our Javier, until finally when you reach the point that you must let go of everything that you think and feel and know, that it is all completely and utterly untrue and that you MUST let go of ALL of it in order to vibrate just a little bit more, a little bit higher so that you can join the entire universe which is always vibrating in and around you and along with you because we are all the same. fucking. thing. and it is at that moment that you inhale sharply in realization, and exhale everything, everything, everything,..... and you break through. you break through the last bit of atmosphere, the protective bubble, the barrier around which your entire whole world has been built, you break through and you are left floating in space... weightless. silent. still. empty. a hollow tube, with the entirety of the universe flowing through you.

and you stay there, breathless, only light, looking out over infinity as the world slowly, spins below you, and the sun shines out over everything, it's reach unending, and you see it. all of it. 

and then you inhale again, the sounds fades away, the song ends, and you land, lightly, back on your yoga mat, the sun barely peaking out over the mountains now. and that is when we sit up, and we thank each other and ourselves, and Javier, dear, incredible, powerful, wonderful, Javier, with his ready smile, his strong voice, and his fathomless, loving, brown eyes, and we bow to the light of each other, the light within ourselves, the light that we all share, because we are all the same, and karen sees me from her mat across from me, and she tells me "It's Ok," and I let it go. I let it all go.

For a brief moment, I sit in the warmth and understanding and shared experience of the people within the small yoga shala with me, in the beautiful, ancient, alive mountains of Spain, and I cry. I cry, without sorrow, without joy, I just cry, and I feel the relief and the beauty and the meaning of it all. And I take this moment, small and powerful, and I store it deep within myself.

This is why I am here. This is the gift my mother gave me. And this is that moment that I will add to many others, as I try my damnest to collect many of them, as many as I can and then more, and build them up, and use them to rebuild a new foundation for myself, a foundation of positivity and light and love and empathy. I will use this moment and others to fill in all the holes in my soul and in my heart, and create a life in which I choose happiness daily, and that I continue to manifest not just what I need but all the many, many things I wish to accomplish.

And I can't do it without all of you, the supporters, the friends, the 'fans,' the family that I have manifested, and the many more that I will continue to call into my life, and these experiences, that I so desperately need to help restore a sense of hope, and tranquility, and joy in my life, so that I can learn to sit back, relaxed, and be present in this moment, the only time that has any truth to it at all, and trust that I am exactly where I need to be, when I need to be there, and watch as my "purpose" isn't chosen, but is allowed to happen.

Thank you for reading, thank you for loving, thank you for supporting, thank you for being, and thank you for giving, in all the ways that you do. Thank you.

Namaste
JIN

PS the sun is coming out, and the rest of the day, besides hurting just all over but in a kinda-good way, I have planned to join in the vegan smoothie workshop happening in the next room, some reading, some writing, some sharing, more yoga, and I'm sure at some point, a caffeine crash and a lot of frustration along with it, and stress at the end of the day that I still have so much to do and didn't accomplish nearly as much as I need to just like every other day and dammit why did I eat so much toast!, all of which I will do my best to stretch and reflect my way through, and try not to direct my anger too much at my dear yoga instructors, as well as at some point a much needed bath.

PPS just as the universe intended, nothing went as planned today, it was full of stress and communications and travel and changes and phone calls in English and Spanish and none of the things just none of them but lotsa yoga and lotsa anger at yoga as I'm known to do but it all ended with a big ass glass of wine, fun conversation with such nice and incredibly wonderful people, new friends, and a little jam session with yours truly on the dijerido. As always, today has been a [terrible/terribly/terrible] Good Day. Grathias a todos. ​

at left; Javier and his magical, spiritual box. to the right; the aussie cuddle puddle