There is something rather magical about what happens when you make space for something you believe in.

This week, I took a pretty significant leap of faith, cutting my teaching hours in half to give my artistic career something it's rarely enjoyed: daylight.

For years, my creative work has flourished in the dark, with studio sessions beginning around sundown and stretching into the wee hours of the morning. But In the Flesh is too significant an undertaking to squeeze into the hours left over from another career. So I made the decision to give my life as an artist the time, space, and daylight it deserves.

It's an enormous undertaking. The kind that requires a slightly unreasonable amount of optimism, an extraordinary amount of work, and a willingness to trust that the resources will show up when they're needed.

And that last part has been particularly challenging.

September was a flurry of meetings, phone calls, and seemingly endless revisions of sponsorship proposals as Hanif and I worked to secure the funding for In the Flesh.

One thing became increasingly clear: institutional sponsorship takes time. And time was something we didn't have the luxury of waiting for. Which meant doing something considerably more uncomfortable: asking people we know personally to support us financially. So last weekend, we took a deep breath and sent out those emails.

By Monday, with no donations or responses arriving, I was feeling rather disconsolate. I'd been waiting for a financial safety net to appear before taking the leap, and so far, there wasn't even the faintest outline.

Meanwhile, the Universe had been dropping some rather unsubtle hints.

A few months ago, writing my morning pages, it informed me that I'd be a full-time artist by the end of the year. Not exactly welcome news, considering how much I LOVE my work helping people discover what their bodies are capable of.

But lately, the message had become a little more insistent:

You have to bet on yourself.

So I did.

On Monday I began telling my clients that I'd no longer be available in the afternoons, saying goodbye (at least for now) to people I've worked with every week for years, and in some cases, decades.

It was emotional. And terrifying.

And then Tuesday came around.

The donations started rolling in.

Conversations turned into sponsorships. People began offering materials, resources, connections, and financial support. Doors started opening. Call it coincidence, momentum, manifestation, or the Universe responding to a rather audacious request. Whatever it is, I'm grateful. We've now raised more than one-third of the funding we need to bring In the Flesh to life. We're not there yet, but every contribution is helping bring this ambitious vision closer to reality.

And on a personal level, something else is taking shape.

After decades of building a career I genuinely love, I'm discovering the thrill of taking everything I've learned and using it as the foundation for something entirely new.

Perhaps everything I've worked toward professionally has been preparing me for this all along.

To everyone who has already stepped forward to help us, THANK YOU. We are blown away by the generosity and enthusiasm surrounding this project.

So what exactly are we building?

For those of you who haven't yet had a glimpse of In the Flesh, here's what we've been dreaming up.

Through immersive art and interactive environments, In the Flesh reveals the remarkable parallels between human anatomy and the natural world—from nervous systems and fungal networks to connective tissues and root systems—inviting visitors to experience the intricate connections that unite all living things.

And rather than try to explain it all in words, we'd love to show you.​
​

And we're planning one hell of an opening night.

On January 8, 2027, we're celebrating with an exclusive opening reception for the people helping bring In the Flesh to life.

The evening will feature live performances created specifically for the exhibition, short presentations from our collaborating artists and scientific experts, and a special augmented reality experience that brings additional performances to life within the exhibition itself—exclusively for opening night.

It's shaping up to be anything but your average art opening.

We'd love to celebrate with those who are helping make this exhibition possible. Here are all the details about our opening night and how you can be part of it.

Can't donate? You can still make a difference.

You don't have to live in Monterey County or contribute financially to help us bring In the Flesh to a wider audience.

We're building our HD Productions profile on instagram - sharing behind-the-scenes reels about our creative process and snips of our past projects as we build our online "street cred" and create momentum around this particular opening.

And every like, comment, and share helps introduce our work to people who might become visitors, collaborators, or supporters.

It's a small gesture that can make a surprisingly big difference.

And now, a little something for your body.

With all this talk of making space, I thought I'd share a rather delicious way to make some in your own body.

This 30-minute chair-and-bolster unwinding routine is all about creating length, movement, and a little more breathing room through your spine, ribs, hips, and shoulders.

We'll use the chair for support and gentle traction, exploring lateral stretches, rotation, and some wonderfully satisfying ways to unwind your body without working particularly hard.

All you'll need is a chair, a bolster (or a few pillows), and half an hour to yourself.

Here's to making space for the things that matter, in our bodies and in our lives.

With love and gratitude,

Domini Anne

Was this email forwarded to you?​
Join the Mailing List for mini-workouts, weekly insights on movement, anatomy, and more.