This has shit to do with yoga…in the specific sense. Now, in the grandest scheme of things, well, it makes perfect sense. I choose ringtones like I choose yoga mats, the perfect chunky ring, books, and who to wreak havoc upon for the day. So. Very. Carefully. So you’ll understand...
A colorful tapestry of bodies, art, flavor, and funk… { yarrr! it’s a yogi with pirate socks! } { giving an adjustment. loved her legwarmers + fun pedicure. } { our lady of yoga } { more happy babies, babes, and bebes } We’re all part of the same brilliant...
It’s in our blood, our breath, our DNA. We yoga here, there, and everywhere, without even thinking on it. All photos by Lo, © Y is for Yogini { Seane Corn takes Vrksasana when she checks in to hotels. } { His Tadasana is even more impressive when you know...
Yoo hoo! I’m back in full effect, though still woozy with the wondrously wanton wawesomeness that was Wanderlust California. Whoop whoop, wowzers, and whew sums it up wather wicely — I mean, rather nicely. :) You know I like to keep it real, so I want to share the wonder...
Rusty joints? Yogic grille not so sparkly? Motor put-putting? Or perhaps just practicing the same damn thang over and over again? Shawty, it be time ta pimp your yoga! As Xzibit says, “Yo Dawg, I heard you like yoga…so let’s put some extra YO in your yoga, so you can...