All my growing up years of being an art student, it was always with the attitude of being a learner, with the acceptance of the unspoken rule that assumes I don't know and the teacher does. This at least sets the stage for openness to receive new information, which is a great thing.

I remember painting class in college, enjoying and prospering from being there with "beginners mind". Recently, I've taken up drawing and painting again. My teacher, Bárbara generously offered to come to my house to see the work I've been doing prior to our first class in her studio so that she could see what I'm working on and producing and where and how she might be most helpful to my development.

She considered each piece silently with much consideration and finally would offer some suggestions in a complimentary and respectful way. One of her suggestions had to do with her perception that certain parts of a couple of the paintings stood out in ways that separated them from the rest of the piece. She advised me to lower the tone in these parts so that the colors were more equal in intensity compared to the rest of the piece.

With my background in graphic design, I found this surprising and counter to my training, whose instructions were around the importance of being aware of and creating visual hierarchy in each piece. I told Bárbara this, but she disagreed and I agreed to comply with each of her suggestions - this was "art" after all, not graphic design.

Today I am inspired to share with you an article which one one level, challenges us to rethink vitamins. On another level, it brings up many questions and deeper issues, which share as an invitation to re-claim or claim for the first time - our power and validity as decision-makers for our own health and wellness.
 
Let’s first read these excerpts from a controversial article by functional and integrative medicine, leader Chris Kessler, entitled, “Throw away your multivitamins and antioxidants!”

Like many, I have had deep wounds that have taken my lifetime to address, feel and heal. As dedicated as I was to inner work, it wasn't until the last couple years that I have begun to feel an emergence from the veil of fog, which was my history.

It’s not that my underpants are fancy or sexy. It’s the way they look on the line. It’s the rainbow of colors intensified from the rainwater with which I washed them. It’s the way the sun reflects their colors.  Which panty touches which panty is a creative process and is akin to painting: finding the relationship and expression of color that I commit to the “canvas.” My underwear hanging on the clothesline on the roof of my house is a reflection to me of my good life, the life I choose here in the rural central highlands of México.