Our studio reflects our ongoing commitment to studying and honoring yoga's roots.
We recognize that these teachings belong to living traditions, and our understanding continues to grow through study, practice, and learning from those who have preserved them.
We invite the community to learn about the art instead of simply consume the imagery, shifting the role of the artwork from decoration to education.
Thank you for reading.
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We recognize that these teachings belong to living traditions, and our understanding continues to grow through study, practice, and learning from those who have preserved them.
We invite the community to learn about the art instead of simply consume the imagery, shifting the role of the artwork from decoration to education.
Thank you for reading.
<3
permanent installations
PrithviFor thousands of years, mudras have been used throughout the contemplative traditions of India as symbolic gestures that express states of consciousness and support meditation. They appear in yogic practice, temple iconography, classical Indian dance, and throughout Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain traditions. Prithvi Mudra, which is represented in his installation, is one of the traditional hasta mudras (hand gestures) of yoga. In Sanskrit, prithvi means earth. Within these traditions, each finger corresponds to one of the five great elements (pancha maha-bhutas) that make up both the human body and the natural world. The ring finger represents the earth element, stability, nourishment, and foundation, while the thumb represents fire, the element of transformation. Their meeting symbolizes the harmonious relationship between grounding and growth. This installation was carefully cut from wood and painted by hand as a reminder that every yoga practice begins with the same invitation: to arrive. You'll notice the hand is intentionally oriented downward. As you enter the studio, it gestures toward the earth beneath your feet, a quiet invitation to root yourself before reaching upward. In yoga, the deepest transformation isn't found by escaping the body, but by becoming fully present within it. Prithvi Mudra has long been associated with the Muladhara (Root) Chakra, the energetic center connected to stability, safety, and our relationship to the physical world. Before movement, before breath, before meditation, we begin by finding our ground. I hope this mural welcomes you into the practice with steadiness, presence, and a reminder that every journey inward begins by rooting deeply where you stand. |
ShuniShuni Mudra (represented by the hand) is traditionally associated with patience, discipline, and discernment. It is formed by joining the thumb and middle finger, the thumb symbolizing agni (fire, consciousness, transformation) and the middle finger symbolizing akasha (space, vastness, and expansion). Historically, this gesture has been used by those meditating as a reminder that wisdom is cultivated gradually, patiently. Rather than forcing growth, it encourages steadiness, contemplation, and trust in the unfolding of practice. It reflects an understanding found throughout the yogic traditions: that lasting transformation is not achieved through intensity alone, but through consistency, humility, and well... time. In yoga, bija (represented by the little emerging, smiling seed) is a Sanskrit word that literally translates to “seed”. It serves as a profound metaphor for the origin of creation, the core essence of a concept, or the latent potential hidden within every single person- just as a tiny seed holds an entire tree. This mural was also carved from wood, painted entirely by hand and placed at the entrance to our lounge intentionally. If the Prithvi Mudra in the lobby invites us to arrive and become grounded, Shuni Mudra invites us to linger a little longer- to read, reflect, connect with community, or simply rest. Bija reminds us that we are all little seeds, full of divine potential. In a world that often asks us to move faster, may this installation remind us that growth doesn't need to be hurried. Cultivating wisdom is intrinsic to who we are and, like yoga itself, unfolds one practice at a time. |
ajnaThis mural represents the Ājñā Chakra, one of the seven primary energy centers described in later yogic and tantric traditions. In Sanskrit, ājñā (आज्ञा) translates as "command," "authority," or "perception." It is commonly known today as the Third Eye Chakra. For centuries, yoga practitioners have associated Ājñā with clarity, insight, and self-inquiry. Rather than "seeing the future" or possessing mystical powers, the third eye has traditionally pointed toward something far more personal and practical: the ability to perceive reality with greater discernment, free from habit, fear, and illusion. This mural was painted entirely by hand and hangs at the threshold between the street and the studio. Before entering a space dedicated to practice, it serves as a quiet invitation to shift your attention inward. Yoga asks us not only to move the body, but to cultivate a way of seeing ourselves, others, and the world with greater awareness. May this symbol remind you that the deepest vision is not found by looking farther outward, but by learning to see more clearly within. |
by Abbé Ciulla
the graphic arts
UNFAzedOn the surface, you might think Ganesha was dealt a tough hand. His own father accidentally cut off his head before replacing it with that of an elephant. He rides a tiny mouse while his brother, Skanda, commands the armies of the gods astride a magnificent peacock. One brother is swift, athletic, and heroic. The other is elephant-headed, round-bellied, and famously fond of sweets. And yet, Gaṇeśa never seems bothered. He meets the world with playfulness, cleverness, and an enormous heart. One of our favorite stories tells of a race around the world. Shiva promised that whichever son circled the world first would receive a special prize. Skanda immediately took flight on his peacock, confident that speed would win the day. Gaṇesha simply walked three circles around his parents. When asked why, he smiled and explained that his mother and father were his entire world. Shiva declared him the winner. Gaṇeśa never seems preoccupied with what he lacks or how he compares to anyone else. He doesn't rush to prove himself. He trusts his own nature, meeting obstacles not with force, but with wisdom, humor, and love. It's a beautiful reminder that the qualities we think make us "less than" may be the very things that help us see the world differently. And sometimes, seeing differently is exactly what allows us to move through life's obstacles with grace. |
untamedOne of our favorite stories from Yoga is that of Kali and Shiva. Kali could easily be misunderstood, especially to someone unfamiliar with Hinduism. Adorned with skulls, standing on Shiva, her tongue extended after battle, she is a powerful and fierce image. But Kali is not a goddess of destruction for destruction's sake. She is Śakti, divine power itself, the fierce, protective force that appears when all other paths have failed. One of her most famous stories is her battle with the demon Raktabija, whose name means Blood-Seed. Every drop of his blood that touched the earth gave rise to another demon, making him impossible to defeat. Kali realized the only way to end the cycle was to catch every drop before it could fall, and with that, she accomplished what no one else could. The battle left her in a state of divine fury. Rather than trying to overpower her, Shiva did something remarkable, he lay peacefully in her path. When Kali stepped upon him, she recognized her beloved beneath her feet. Her rage gave way to awareness, and balance was restored. This story doesn't ask Kali to be less powerful. Her untamed nature is exactly what saves the world. And Shiva doesn't answer that power with greater force. He answers it with presence. Perhaps that's why this story has endured for centuries. It reminds us that strength and tenderness are not opposites. They are two expressions of the same sacred whole. |
devotedFew stories have inspired as much love, poetry, music, and devotion as that of Krishna and Radha. On the surface, it is a love story. Krishna, the playful divine cowherd, and Radha, whose love for him is unwavering, meet in forests, dance beneath the moonlight, and lose themselves in one another's presence. But their story has always pointed toward something much deeper. Radha's love is completely selfless. She asks for nothing in return. She doesn't love Krishna because of what he can give her- she loves because love itself has become her nature. Krishna, in turn, reveals the divine not as something distant or unreachable, but as something that invites us into joy, playfulness, beauty, and relationship. Their dance reminds us that the deepest spiritual path isn't always one of renunciation or seriousness. Sometimes it is one of delight, devotion, music, friendship, and wholehearted love. For centuries, saints, poets, and artists across India have returned to the story of Radha and Krishna as the highest expression of bhakti, the yoga of devotion. Their love isn't meant to be imitated literally, but contemplated. It asks a simple question: What would it feel like to love the sacred with your whole heart? This artwork is displayed in honor of that timeless story, one that continues to inspire millions of people to see love itself as a path to the divine. |
by Abbé Ciulla
curated works
Across islands such as Bali and Java, carving techniques have been passed from one generation to the next through family workshops, often beginning in childhood. Master carvers spend decades refining their skills, learning not only the technical aspects of carving but also the stories, symbolism, and cultural meaning behind each figure they create.
Historically, these carvings adorned temples, shrines, palaces, and family compounds. They served not simply as decoration, but as reminders of virtues, sacred stories, and humanity's relationship with the divine. Even today, these artisans continue to approach their work with reverence, viewing carving as both a livelihood and a cultural inheritance worthy of preservation.
Historically, these carvings adorned temples, shrines, palaces, and family compounds. They served not simply as decoration, but as reminders of virtues, sacred stories, and humanity's relationship with the divine. Even today, these artisans continue to approach their work with reverence, viewing carving as both a livelihood and a cultural inheritance worthy of preservation.
hanuman
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barong
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