Noomies! October was INTENSE. I felt everything deeply… swirling creativity and joy mixed with grief after losing someone I’ve loved since infancy. My queer energy was flowing: embracing multiplicity, finding ways to enchant myself through the hard stuff, and flirting with life itself this month.
This month’s photo diary is a peek at what creative living looks like while navigating everything at once: the beautiful, the crushing, the mundane. It’s playing with identity through costumes. Softening anxiety with small acts of magic. Protesting with humor. And letting it all flow together.
Here’s how October unfolded...
At our NoomaLooma Dress Up & Draw, we took turns modeling and drawing each other in 3-minute bursts (low stakes, high joy!). It’s an exercise in building creative confidence—for some people, being looked at feels vulnerable; for others, the drawing part is the tricky bit. No good, no bad, just play is what we say…
Everyone exchanged drawings at the end and it was surprisingly moving to see people going home with the portraits others made of them. The vibes were immaculate. Can’t wait for the next one.
Play Prompt: Take a minute and draw something with your non-dominant hand. Enjoy the awkwardness of it.
This month was a grief wave. I lost my mom’s best friend Diane—a radiant potter who shaped so much of who I am. The day I learned she was in hospice, I happened to be meeting an artist friend at Art Shack in Brooklyn (an incredible not-for-profit pottery space), so I made a candle holder in her honor to create a little shrine. Sometimes the most cathartic thing is putting your hands to work making something in honor of someone you love.
My friends Belen and Cherri took me to see “Weer” at the new A24 theater: a one-woman show by Natalie Palamides, a wild genius with a clowning background. It was uproarious, unhinged, and I laughed and screamed my face off as Natalie played both sides of a couple on New Year’s Even 1999 (Y2K!), wearing a half-him-half-her suit.
It was the night Diane died and I really needed the reminder that grief and aliveness can coexist, that honoring loss sometimes means letting yourself feel everything, even (especially) humor.
Lakshmi and I presented NoomaLooma at the Kinference design conference and it felt like a big deal to get on stage and share (!!)
I’ve learned to love the improv of public speaking instead of trying to be perfect, so when tech issues struck, I just rolled with it and turned chaos into comedy (very on brand).
Best moment: a designer telling us “I lost 2 hours scrolling last night. I wish I’d had NoomaLooma!” Exactly. Join our interest list to be the first to play ;-)
Viva came home from arts afterschool wanting to make zines, so we folded paper, grabbed magazines, and spent the evening creating. She made two about the Harlem Renaissance and one about the Joy Of Children (lol) and I made mini manifestation books for me and my bestie Liz Tran.
My daughter is my forever teacher—always reminding me that the best creative sessions happen when you just start without overthinking. (Also: her editorial vision is unmatched.)
It’s hard time to be alive with so much violence, destruction, and injustice in the world. The grief and cognitive dissonance of every day sure is… something. So, I’m grateful for moments to show up and take collective action.
No Kings Day was HUGE. 7 million people joined! I loved seeing all the playfulness in how people showed up AKA “tactical frivolity” (using costumes, absurdity, and humor to disarm authority). The court jester speaking truth to power. Play as resistance. Joy as refusal to let the heaviness crush our spirits.
After spending 2 hours deep in business model spreadsheets (sexy!), Lakshmi and I refueled with a 5-minute play break. We did watercolor Rorschach tests—folding paper, dropping paint, seeing what emerged.
We’re serious about building with play as a business strategy (and the energy boost we got from this “diversion” proves why it matters).
Halloween is my favorite creative holiday—I love the permission it gives to play with identity, shapeshift, and experiment with different styling and makeup!
This year I was a knight in shining armor (maybe I subconsciously wanted to be my own protector). I made a cardboard sword, painted old boots silver, and then biked and subway-ed around NYC in full costume. I live for the surreal whimsy of an NYC Halloween… chatting with a clown and a raver bunny on the way into Manhattan.
We led 150 conference attendees on a Wonder Wander ending in a Found Object Museum. Everyone collected random objects on their walk, then “curated” them with labels. Favorite find: a tinfoil ball labeled “Taco Asteroid.” (Now every tinfoil ball I see = asteroid. Proof that playful reframing sticks!)
We love partnering with companies to create these unexpected, connective experiences—DM us!
This month my daughter got really into reading graphic novels, which means co-reading is now A Thing We Do! One Saturday we sat at a cafe while each lost in our own witchy books (her: “Witches of Brooklyn,” me: “Magic Maker”). It was a dream date—parallel play with a side of fries.
Parenting is not easy, so I really savored this.
For the first time in 8 years, my old friends’ band Grizzly Bear performed alongside enchantress Victoria Legrand from Beach House. The show was a portal—all these memories flooding back of shows and creative adventures from years past. I saw friends I hadn’t seen in eons. It made me feel grateful to all the artists creating beauty in the world for us to bask in.
P.S. They’re touring and the show is collective effervescence embodied!!)
My friends Aziz and Nyla from The øther invited me to a night exploring identity and dualities through art and style. We gathered around a long table and created moodboards, guided by Meagan at Art Gurl.
In a month of heightened emotions and exploration, it was so fitting to be cutting and pasting my way through questions about who I am and who I’m becoming.
October was beautifully blurred. Navigating grief with comedy, business spreadsheets with watercolors, dressing up in costume when everything feels terrible, and overall refusing to be one tidy thing. Allowing myself to feel grief, rage, joy, and wonder… and letting small creative acts help metabolize it all.
What did your October hold? Reply and share a snapshot with me—I’d love to be photo pen pals and get a window into your world.
Playfully (and tenderly), P
Ready to transform everyday moments into creative practice? Join our NoomaLooma interest list to test the app and join our events.
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