Sunday, October 26, 2025

Four Sun Moon Archetypes — Journaling Worksheet

 

Four Sun Moon Archetypes — Journaling Worksheet

Created by Nya Patrinos


You can listen to this meditation on my YouTube Channel.

https://youtu.be/iVQK1Bm4so0?si=3twWukYLVEAwXD3V

Guided Meditation — Review

Sit comfortably or lie down, with your eyes closed or open with a soft gaze. Bring the awareness to the breath. Notice the rise and fall of the breath. On the inhale the belly rises. On the exhale the belly falls. Inhale the belly rises. Exhale the belly falls. Inhale mentally thinking day. Exhale mentally thinking night. Do this for several breaths. Inhale mentally thinking "ha." Exhale mentally thinking "tha." Do this for several breaths. Bring the awareness to the chidakasha, the mind space in front of the closed eyes.

CONNECTING TO RATRI

And in this space see the dark night sky. Experience the darkness. Absorb the primordial energy. Connect to the emotions and feelings that arise as you find yourself in the emptiness of night. Notice the stars filling the heavens. Watch them shining and twinkling. Breathe here for a some time under the protection of the canopy of night sky. Take in the vastness of the universe. Examine the stars again and notice them fading.

CONNECTING TO USHAS

Notice the sky changing from black to dark purple. Dark purple to indigo. Indigo to blue. Look mentally to the East. Become aware of a band of rosy pinks and sandy yellows at the horizon. See the sky transforming from yellow to the orange of fresh mangoes or tangerines. Experience the explosion of colors that mark the Dawn. Absorb the vibrance of the reds, oranges and yellows. Take some breaths here in Dawn's early light. See the heavens now as they quickly fade into a gentle blue.

CONNECTING TO SURYA

Notice, the head of the sun aggressively emerging out of the warmth of the morning sky. Daylight confidently fills the air. The beams becomes bigger, brighter and bolder. Illuminating the atmosphere. Now the firmament is divided between yellow on the bottom and blue on the top. Rising and becoming more intense the sun has taken control of the sky. Connect to the dynamism of the sun. Feel activated by the solar light. Take some breaths here being charged by the sun. Notice as the sun travels westward. See it lowering itself down into a pool of orange light. Now disappearing into a cloud of grayness and blue. Orange stripes mark its departure. An indigo sky pushes down into a cloud of yellow and orange.

CONNECTING TO CHANDRA

Everything is over taken by blue-blackness. Bring awareness to a bright white ball in the distance. The moon fully formed taking its place in the night sky. Gently rising out of the darkness. The compassionate moon, receptive and responsive. Looking over us a beacon of nourishment. Experience the sweetness as the moonlight caresses you. Take some slow deep breaths here connecting to the moon's meditative power.

Bring the awareness back to the chidakasha. The mind space in front of the closed eyes. And let go of this visualization practice. Notice the breath. Inhaling thinking "Tha." Exhaling thinking "Ha." Do this for several breaths. Inhaling thinking "Moon." Exhaling thinking "Sun." Do this for several breaths. And when you are ready, and there is no need to rush or hurry, gently blink the eyes open.


Understanding the Archetypes

The Sun and Moon offer a symbolic framework for understanding personality and inner balance. Each of us holds a unique blend of Solar Masculine (Surya), Solar Feminine (Ushas), Lunar Masculine (Chandra), and Lunar Feminine (Ratri) energies. Use the prompts below to explore your personal relationship with these four archetypes after reading or completing the guided imagery practice.

General Reflection

✎ Which of the four archetypes feels most familiar or dominant in you right now?



✎ Which archetype feels least developed or most foreign to you?



✎ How do you experience balance or tension between your solar and lunar energies?



✎ What time of day do you feel most alive or creative — dawn, day, dusk, or night? What might that reveal about your inner landscape?



Solar Masculine — Surya

Dynamic, active, confident, illuminating, transformative. Surya is the radiant Sun energy — the force of purpose, intellect, and leadership. It expresses itself through clarity, drive, discipline, and the courage to act. When in balance, Surya illuminates truth and energizes creation; when overextended, it can burn out or dominate.

✎ When do you feel most radiant or purposeful, like the energy of Surya?



✎ How do you express clarity, discipline, or leadership in daily life?



✎ When might your solar drive turn into overexertion or burnout?



✎ What helps you channel Surya's light in a balanced, life-giving way?



Solar Feminine — Ushas

Heart-centered, creative, optimistic, love in action. Ushas is the Dawn, representing renewal, inspiration, and the first light of awakening. She channels power through love and creativity, blending passion with cooperation and artistry. Ushas calls forth optimism, beauty, and new beginnings.

✎ How does creativity or passion awaken in you, like the light of dawn?



✎ What does "love in action" mean to you at this time in your life?



✎ Where in your life are you being called to begin anew or rise into greater light?



✎ What practices help you embody Ushas's optimism, radiance, and heart-centered strength?



Lunar Masculine — Chandra

Gentle, nurturing, compassionate, emotionally intelligent. Chandra, the Moon, embodies care, sensitivity, and reflective wisdom. He supports others through presence and empathy while staying grounded in emotional awareness. When balanced, Chandra connects body, mind, and heart in harmony.

✎ When do you feel most nurturing or peaceful, like Chandra's moonlight?



✎ How do you offer care and support to others — and how do you receive it?



✎ What helps you stay connected to your sensitivity and emotional awareness?



✎ How might you deepen your connection to your intuitive or bodily wisdom?



Lunar Feminine — Ratri

Mysterious, protective, intuitive, deep. Ratri, the Goddess of Night, represents the fertile darkness — a space of protection, gestation, and mystery. She invites us to rest, feel, and listen within. Ratri's power is magnetic and inward, holding the wisdom of cycles, dreams, and intuition.

✎ What is your relationship to mystery, darkness, and the unknown?



✎ When do you feel most connected to your intuition or inner voice?



✎ What emotions or memories surface when you sit in stillness or solitude?



✎ How do you experience protection and safety within darkness or quiet?



Integration & Guided Imagery Reflection

✎ During the guided imagery, which time of day felt most powerful for you — night, dawn, day, or moonrise? Why?



✎ What images, sensations, or emotions surprised you during the visualization?



✎ How can you bring the gifts of all four archetypes into greater harmony in your daily life?



✎ What is one practical action you can take this week to honor each archetype within yourself?




Namaste. Hari Om Tat Sat.

Bharani Card - Nakshatra Totem


Here is Nakshatra Card #2 - Bharani - available on Kickstarter

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/nyapatrinos/nakshatra-totem

The card reads:

Walk with me, I am Bharani. I live in the constellation Aries with my companion elephant. I take on the world’s burdens, purify and cleanse them and make them new.

You have met me through many lifetimes. I am strong and sensuous. I transform entanglements and suffering into creativity and sensuality. I remove that which no longer serves you and fill your life with new beginnings.

Set aside intellectualism and book knowledge and know things intuitively and sensually through me. I will guide you to your empathetic self.

Join my herd, we will nourish and care for you. Come closer, so I can wrap you in my loving trunk.

#Bharani #elephant #Nakshatra #Nakshatras #Goddess #Asterism #divinefeminine #DivineGuidance #divinefeminineenergy #VedicAstrology #kickstarter #totem
 

Wednesday, October 22, 2025

On Speculative Design

 "I love you, but you are not serious people." — Logan Roy, Succession


As an architecture student at the University of Pennsylvania, our first assignment was to design a crossing over the Wissahickon River. I was a transfer student from the Rhode Island School of Design. Always a bit of a weirdo, I didn't make a bridge or any typical structure. I thought there were already enough bridges over the Wissahickon. My design solution was to plant a line of silver maples through the area on both sides of the river, so that when the wind blew, there would be a visual crossing of silver connecting both sides of the river. Now I think I was a speculative designer without knowing it. Maybe I was even critiquing the design brief. If I had known about speculative design maybe my life would have been different.








In those early years, under the tutelage of Bilge Friedlander and Denis Playdon, I was allowed to make my own form of design. They encouraged imagination and the opening of new perspectives. We were allowed to create spaces for discussion, and even to shake up the design prompt. I wanted to make weird, innovative, even ugly things. The only field that seemed to embrace that kind of thinking was set design. I wish I had known there was this whole other world where I could have been imagining the sounds of woolly mammoths by investigating elephants. The things I care about have always existed in the imaginal space. I can imagine a whole different Nya, with a PhD, making crazy things, "talking about talking" in some cozy design school or practice. Instead, I worked for big corporations trying to please studio execs with sets that weren't funny, cheap, sophisticated, whatever enough. Who knew there was another way.












Dunne & Raby write about dreams being downgraded to hopes that the dreams of the twentieth century have been revealed as unsustainable. But whose dreams are they talking about, as they jet-set from place to place living their very interesting lives in London and now in New York, making absurd, dark, plausible, preferable, imaginary, critical things.








I have studied a lot about dreams, and I prefer the framework of Stephen Aizenstat, with whom I've studied in the Dream Tending program at Pacifica. Aizenstat's approach invites us to experience dreams through four interrelated dimensions: the personal, interpersonal, world, and mythic. The world and mythical dimension I think relate and could even expand speculative design. If, as Aizenstat suggests, we recognize that dreams are not only individual but also expressions of the anima mundi, the soul of the world. The Dream of the Planet offers us ecological insight and connection. Finally, the mythic or archetypal mode links personal and collective imagination, showing how dream images participate in timeless stories and sacred patterns that shape culture and consciousness. I don't believe these types of dreams can be downgraded. We just aren't listening to them. Maybe as some are speculating about joyfully, Mother Earth is begging for an audience.












The authors talk about not giving up. They write, "Rather than giving up altogether, there are other possibilities for design: one is to use design as a means of speculating how things could be — speculative design." I appreciate the idea of the future cone fanning out. Perhaps I've become too rigid and should allow myself to inhabit:

Probable futures

Plausible futures

Possible futures

Fantasies of fairy tales, superheroes, and space operas

Preferable futures

Imaginary futures

Because I am female, Black, and Jewish, I look at the world through the lens of oppression, and I actually like to be confirmed in that awareness. If I have to inhabit a fairy tale I think I prefer to live in a story penned by the Brothers Grimm, like The Red Shoes where Karen’s feet are cut off by the executioner, or The Little Match Girl who freezes to death when no one buys her matches.

I was talking to my friend and collaborator Sarah today about how I feel like I'm post-sustainability or perhaps an existential post-environmentalist. My work now is about climate anxiety, eco-grief, and solastalgia. Speculative designers often carry an optimism and arrogance that I feel I've lost. I will no longer design a silver maple crossing.  I now only long to put my feet in the water and listen to the river. But in a way, my Solastalgia Project acts as a critique of sustainability by challenging its timelines and highlighting how climate futures are increasingly catastrophic.












The pessimist in me wonders if the authors will go on giving lectures and speculating about the future while living their best lives as the planet falls into oblivion. But perhaps they'll be on Mars with Elon, wearing their statistical wrist watches. It just seems like they have those kinds of connections. 



Tuesday, October 14, 2025

Where Are the Spaces Designed for Us? On Invisibility, Age, and the University's Design Failure

My journey as a Black woman has traced an arc from hyper-sexualized object to invisible body. As a young woman walking to music lessons in Philadelphia on Germantown Avenue, I navigated catcalls and advances past three bars, feeling unsafe in a world not designed for black little girls to walk in. In Cuba after architecture school, wanting only to see the Hotel Nacional, I was propositioned over a dozen times along the esplanade, my long braids marking me as a prostitute, because only sex workers could afford hair extensions there. In Hollywood, security guards repeatedly directed me to extras parking and the extras food line unable to imagine I, a black woman,  was the production designer.

Now, at 55, a graduate student at UC Davis, I have crossed into a different territory: invisibility, disrespect, and dismissal. My gray temples, once dyed, now mark me. I don't know where to get my hair done because I don't know where Black bodies gather in Davis. Is it time to go upstairs like Fellini suggested in the harem scene of "8-1/2". Women of a certain age are simply supposed to go upstairs and disappear.












I ask myself - Where are the spaces designed for  women over 50? Where do Black women of a certain age gather in Davis? Where can I feel comfortable, be myself, kick back?  Where can I have a hot flash?

I have worked in design for 30 years. I hold an MFA in Scenic Design I got in 1996 (when I was the appropriate age of 26). My résumé includes Emmy nominations, Art Directors Guild Award nominations, a Dramalogue Award, numerous residencies. Just last year...or was it the year before? I was interviewed by the LA Times,  House Beautiful and Set Decor. I sat on an IATSE panel in Design, was in fellow for Women in Film, presented at UCLA, received residencies in Key West and Cornwall. What happened to that person?  Does she still exist?

In my Introduction to Design Section, where I TA,  every second is scripted on a "Road Map", as if I would have nothing to contribute myself after three decades in theater, opera, film, and television design and teaching design part time since 2000. I am told repeatedly that I'm "an artist, not a designer." Some say design "means many things." Others suggest I might look into other programs. I'm treated as a first-year MFA student, as if I am young and dumb and I am told "I will understand the design process better later."

When I was the right age for Grad School

What was all the work for? The MFA? The Ivy League degree? The magazine articles? The thirty years of working 60 to 80 hours a week? Do I just accept invisibility and shut my mouth? Should I leave the world for the young, accept that, as John Irving wrote, life is all downhill after 15?

Was I too uppity to think I could return to school and find a place for me there? That my experience would be valued? That what I have to say would matter?

I ask myself, where does the older student fit into the university? This program seems to be "one size fits all," but whose size? Whose body? Whose experience? Obviously not mine,

I feel myself wanting to hush. I feel myself being hushed before I can even speak. It reminds me of being a little girl when people asked if I had a middle name. I said no, and they asked, "Oh, could you not afford one?" After that, I learned to say it first, "I don't have a middle name, couldn't afford one", insulting myself before others could. Taking the power of explaining my name before it could be used against me.

I think of my grandfather, a Greek immigrant who fought for coal miners and steel workers. I think of my Black grandmother, who left South Carolina at 12, made her way to Philadelphia, supported herself as a washer girl. I'm almost embarrassed that micro-aggressions and discomfort would bother me at all, given what they endured.

But maybe that's the point. Maybe I shouldn't be embarrassed. Maybe the question isn't whether I'm too arrogant or need to embrace "beginner's mind." Maybe the question is: Why hasn't the university designed space for me? for us?  For women who have lived full professional lives and return with knowledge, scars, and stories to tell? For Black women who have navigated worlds not built for them and still achieved? For bodies that don't fit the imagined default student identity?

And maybe you are asking me, If everything was so great before, why am I here? And I am not sure anymore.  But if you had asked me a few months ago I would say because education should be lifelong. Because I have more to learn and more to give. Because I love textiles and wanted to learn as much as I could about them. Because I believed there would be room for me.  But I should have known there wouldn't be.












Before I knew about intersectionality.




Monday, October 13, 2025

Simone Leigh

 I first encountered Simone Leigh's sculptures at the California African American Museum. She's been around awhile, and I should have known of her, but I didn't. I have a lot of excuses, but in reality, I haven't paid enough attention.

Historically, Black women's artwork has been omitted from museums and galleries. In contrast to that paradigm, Leigh has had solo shows at most iconic places of the art world including, but not limited to, the Guggenheim, the Hammer, and the Tate Modern. She has won the Guggenheim Foundation's Hugo Boss Prize and been selected for the Whitney Biennial. In 2022, Leigh became the first Black woman to represent the United States at the Venice Biennale, winning the Golden Lion for Best Participant.





Leigh has received grants, fellowships, and residencies, including one at the Studio Museum in Harlem (2010). Her career is transnational. She has traveled and shown internationally and collaborated with Nigerian curator Bisi Silva on several projects.


Described as auto-ethnographic, her sculptural language centers on African art and material culture, performance, and Black feminism. She uses the term "Black female subjectivity" and is interested in women "who…have been left out of the archive or left out of history.”


Her "Black Feminist Aesthetics" centers Black female knowledge, using elements like cowrie shells and watermelon seeds in her work. She makes Black female bodies at monumental scale and addresses racist stereotypes and female genitalia. Thus reclaiming Black women's bodies from centuries of objectification, erasure and harm. Where our bodies were historically displayed as spectacle (for example, the Black women displayed in human zoos), Leigh presents them with agency, power, and dignity. The large scale of her pieces demands that viewers recognize Black women as powerful subjects worthy of honor and contemplation. In addition, she references historically Black activist organizations like the Black Panthers. "Leigh's practice across sculpture, video and installation, explores Black feminist thought, vernacular architecture, and the histories and lived experiences of the African diaspora, centering women's unacknowledged acts of labor, community and care" (Art Dey).

Simone Leigh gives Black feminist theory a monumental, visual, and public dimension. She transforms the insights of Black feminist thought into spaces and forms that demand recognition, care, and reverence for Black women's lives.

Friday, October 3, 2025

In Response - On Country Learning (Sheehan, Moran, Harrison

 A lot of this article feels emotionally close to the world of yoga that I have inhabited since the early 90s. It speaks to my time studying at Kripalu, the Ghosh College in Kolkata, India and in the Sivananda Ashram in Los Angeles. I try to connect my yoga life with my design life but they are not always complementary.


I think it's hard for us to know the effect of colonization on design because it is the water that we fish swim in. We unconsciously use so much language that we are not aware of. When I was living in Munich in my twenties, a German friend of mine described the day as gas oven hot. Me having a Jewish father hearing that from a German was triggering and unacceptable. But he had never considered what that phrase might imply. What seemed horrifying to me was normal for him. I think that happens all the time in big and small ways.


When talking about how to decolonize design, the authors speak of designing by "…building relationships with knowledge outside the human mind." For me, my point of connection to these words means experiential knowledge. Listening from the heart. Listening from the stomach. Understanding that the mind is just one brain center.


When I was working on sets in Hollywood, I used to have to do an incredible amount of designing fast. I couldn't always do the research I wanted to because the deadlines came up so fast and often the scripts changed at the last minute, and I was no longer prepared for the new things I needed to design. When I was faced with these situations, I would trust my intuition on how to design and decorate the set. I relied on instinct and that I had read and embodied the script enough to make quick decisions. I always believed this place of deep intuition was a very creative, honest, and authentic place to design from.


The authors ask us to learn through connections and the ways things connect. I am not sure I have done that, but it is something I can strive for. Maybe like in the Eames and Eames film Powers of Ten I can practice zooming way out and zooming way in when designing. I can ask myself where and how can I be more connected to other people, to place, to heart, to spirit, to the ancestors. That is something I would like to do.


The authors suggest that we should listen to people with all kinds of experiences.  I learned about active listening when studying yoga therapy at Kripalu. In this modality, listening is more important than speaking. This is a strategy as a designer I have used often when working with directors in film, television, and commercials. I really try to listen beyond words to understand how to make the environment that the director wants. Because words are only one form of communication (and often aren't reliable), I try to understand tone of voice, gestures, and emotions so I can get the set right. I don't always succeed. Sometimes I forget. But sometimes I get it right and even exceed expectations.


Years ago I did a rodeo movie called, "Cowboy Up." Being an African-American woman from Philadelphia I didn't understand much about white rodeo life in Central California. I spent a lot of time with the local bull riders where we were filming in Nipomo so I could make authentic sets. I walked around with them, hung out with them their bunk houses. I fed the animals with them; I even sat on a bull. Once that time was spent I began to understand more but also understood I didn’t know enough and never would. So I asked them to help me, I said, "I'm just a black girl from Philly, can you help me tell your story accurately?" And they did help me. Explaining what items would be placed where in the rodeo. Bringing keep sakes from their families houses to make the sets more authentic. We co-created and I am proud of the work.


But my life in film has been a life that has contributed tremendous waste. Buying thousands if not millions of dollars of things that have very limited use. When we recycled, when we donated, it was just performative.


The authors speak of a definition of design: "Design is how all living beings co-operate to co-create." A few years back I heard a lecture on Deep Ecology. This idea really resonated with me. "Deep ecology is an environmental philosophy that promotes the inherent worth of all living beings regardless of their instrumental utility to human needs and argues that modern human societies should be restructured in accordance with such ideas." I think this means a design that does no harm in its materials, the people who make it,  the people who use it, and all beings everywhere.  It's like the meta meditation we use a lot in yoga therapy that ends:


"May all beings be happy."


"May all beings be peaceful."


"May all beings be safe."


"May all beings live with ease." 




When I was at Arrowmont School of Craft this summer I heard a lecture by Zeke Leonard who has a motto of only using things that are around to design with. He has made a practice of making banjos and guitars out of old pianos. He proclaimed, “Make stuff out of things not things out of stuff.”


My aunt Frances and my grandmother were readers of dreams, and a lot of my design ideas come in dreams or meditation. I think this is the ancestral knowledge (I don't consider myself indigenous) that has been passed down. The idea that problems can be solved in dreams is something that everyone on my mom's side of the family believes.


The author speaks of places where memorable steps can be made. In wine this is a term called terroir, meaning the taste of the place where the wine is grown, the soil, the climate, the topography.... These factors all give it a specificity. I think objects that lack a specificity that are not sited fall short. The opposite of the terroir idea  seems to be when the authors speak of design that disregards context.


I had the opportunity to study at Stitch Buffalo this summer. An organization that provides refugee women with a place to do their traditional crafts and/or learn other techniques if they wish, and/or sell their work. The store at Stitch Buffalo is a marvel. Everything there is handmade by local refugee people (mainly women) who work in the space. Anything you buy will make a profound difference in someone's life. I met many of the women and they were incredibly proud to show me their work. I think this is an example of design that exemplifies the message of the article.


The art and design I want to do (and maybe already do a little bit now) is centered on giving voice to the voiceless, telling the stories of people and places that have been forgotten or left unexplored, and reinterpreting religious texts, myths, and folktales through a modern lens. I want to explore the realms of spirituality and identity, as well as cultural intersections. History, memory, light, wind, climate, temperature, the moon, and stars. I want to practice the yogic principles in design, make a design of ahimsa (non harming).  It's like the mantra I end with when I teach yoga; Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu - "May all beings everywhere know love and peace, and may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life contribute to that love and peace for all"