Hi Reader,

There is a version of you that exists before the job title, before the code-switching, before you learned which parts of yourself to leave at the door.

That version doesn't disappear. It waits.

The question I've been sitting with for most of my adult life is this: how do you stay tethered to that version of yourself when the world is constantly pulling you away from it?

I'm a practicing Architect. I work in a field that is rigidly structured, historically male-dominated, and not always kind to the parts of a person that don't fit neatly. For years, I moved through that world the way many of us do: adapting, adjusting, wearing different masks for different rooms. It's not dishonesty. It's survival. But survival has a cost, and that cost is paid quietly, in the slow erosion of your sense of self.

What saved me, what continues to save me, is something I've come to call an art anchor.

The Two Things That Kept Me Whole

Before I can explain what an art anchor is, I need to tell you about the two forces that have served as the umbrella over my whole life.

Art Pure, unbridled expression. The opposite of rigid. No rules, no approval required. Just the honest movement of feeling into form. Art is where I go when I need to remember who I am without anyone watching.

Shamanism An energetic connection to myself and to something larger. A willingness to sit with the unknown, to let the universe speak, to trust what can't be measured. It is the practice of coming home to your own frequency.

Together, these are not hobbies. They are survival tools. They are the reason I can walk into a corporate environment wearing the mask that is required and still know, with complete certainty, where to find my true self when I leave.

The First Time I Made One

Four years ago I went on my first guided soul journey, facilitated by a shaman, held indoors because a storm was threatening outside. It felt symbolic even then.

I came with a clear intention: to remove the masculine mask I had been wearing most of my life, one shaped in part by being raised by an immigrant Vietnamese mother, by all the ways I had learned to be more masculine and action-oriented in order to be accepted.

What happened during that journey was profound in ways I still don't have full language for. What I can describe is an image.

The green spoke to me of Mother Earth, of the feminine, of everything soft and rooted and receiving. The gold flame was Father Sun: the masculine, the active, the illuminating. The journey's deepest gift was this clarity, that harmony between my feminine and masculine sides was not only possible, it was what my soul had been searching for all along.

Earlier that day I had pulled a card from my 13 Moon Oracle deck. The card was Sovereignty. Its color frequency: emerald green and gold.

I didn't plan this. The universe, as it tends to do, had already been speaking.

When I returned home, I knew I needed to hold onto what had shifted. I pulled out a small canvas, maybe four inches square. I painted shades of green, layer by layer, until the surface felt alive. Then I pressed gold leaf into the wet paint until a flame emerged.

That was it. Small, unassuming, and completely mine.

I placed it on my altar. It has been my North Star ever since.

The painting doesn't create the feeling. The neural pathways are already built; the feeling lives inside you permanently. The painting triggers it. It says: yes, you remember. This is who you actually are. That thing that happened at work today is not the story. This is.

Make Your Own

This is your permission slip to create.

It works best if you give it quiet. Put on music that makes you feel like yourself. Find a space where you won't be observed or interrupted. Let your inner critic wait outside the room. Let your inner child play.

What you'll need: poster board, magazines, colored paper, scissors, glue. Paint, pencils, markers if you have them. The medium is secondary. The act of making is everything.

1. Get grounded. Sit quietly. Take a few deep breaths and let the noise of the day settle. Feel the weight of your body in the chair, in the room.
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2. Find the moment. Ask yourself: when did I feel most fully myself? When did I learn something that genuinely changed me? A peak experience, a quiet realization, a journey. Anything that left a permanent mark. Let an image, a color, or a feeling rise up.
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3. Write a few words. Three to five words that capture the essence of what you want to remember. Don't overthink it. Let the first words that come, come.
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4. Begin without knowing the end. Look through your materials for images that carry those words. Trust what emerges. It does not need to be beautiful to anyone else. It only needs to be true to you. Glue the pieces down. Once it's dry, add your words on top if you feel called.
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5. Place it where you'll see it. An altar, a desk, a windowsill. Somewhere your eyes naturally land. This is now your mirror. Your North Star. The reminder, on hard days, that you already know who you are. You just need something outside yourself to reflect it back.

I Teach this in Person

For 5 years I've been a part of Ekani Le's annual women's retreat. This year I'm cohosting alongside her and Treestar to serve a small circle of women for 3.5 days of exactly this work: journey, ceremony, heal and then the making. It's called The Way Home, and the art anchor is the piece I lead. This year it happens September 24th through 27th, in a quiet house in Montara.

If You'd Like One Made for You

There are moments when logic is not enough, when the mind wants certainty but the soul wants recognition.

A Custom Soul Frequency Portrait Painting meets you there. Created slowly, intuitively, and with deep listening, it reflects the frequency of your soul in this season of life. Not who you've been. Not who you think you should be. But who you are becoming.

Bring me your soul and I'll help ground and discover what it desires for this next phase.

Just reply to this email if you'd like to talk about a commission.

Make something that holds your truest self. Then keep it close.

If you make something, I'd love to see it. Just hit reply.

With Love & Emerald Fire,

Cat Gutierrez

Soul Artist, Shamanic Practitioner, Architect,

San Francisco, California