The first two weeks of October in Chicago are always stunning. The leaves begin to change, the air carries a welcome coolness, and it's a month packed with celebrations for so many of my favorite people. Strange how birthdays love to cluster like that. 😊
One of the strangest coincidences is that my sister Yvonne and her husband, Bill, share the same birthday, and I share mine with Bill's brother's wife. I recently joked that The Most High clearly knew our families needed one another to build in faith, love, and trust. And build we did.
Back in the day, we pooled our talents and resources to bring two restaurant concepts to life in Chicago: Urbanbelly and Belly Shack. Eventually, we forged a new partnership with David Zadikoff of Cornerstone Restaurant Group. David, his son Josh, and their stellar team invested in our collective vision, supporting our third culinary venture, bellyQ—a 10,000-square-foot Modern Asian BBQ concept I had the honor of helming as creative director.
I poured my heart and soul into every ounce and detail of bellyQ, helping introduce a new approach to the interior design of a culinary space of that scale in Chicago. Meaningful design matters in this architecturally rich and historically significant city.
Since those early seeds of creative collaboration, Bill and the Cornerstone Group have continued to manifest so much more, with everyone firing on all cylinders and moving in exciting new directions of their own. If you're planning a visit to Chicago, be sure to make time for a delicious meal at the newest Urbanbelly location in the Fulton Market District.
First Light: A Birthday Surprise, A Deeper Awakening
Architecture was one of my first loves. It was the focus of my studies for several years, beginning in high school. If only I had focused a little more on graduating with high grades back then. But life was challenging during those years, especially after my father left our family. I was simply grateful to graduate on time and make it through my teenage years without getting into trouble. Praise God.
Somehow, my teenage spirit kept nudging me forward, drawing my attention toward the things that brought me joy: mastering the art of drawing elevations and floor plans, and creating miniature architectural models. Making the math math was a thrill for my brain beyond measure. I loved my architectural scale the way a kid loves a teddy bear.
Then I joined a clay sculpting class, and something clicked. I began to understand that creating form was about more than measurements and materials. It was about the relationship between imagination, intention, and the possibilities waiting to be revealed. I didn't know it then, but that lesson would find its way back to me years later.
The first thought that came to mind after Bill and Yvonne surprised me with a trip to the newly opened Obama Presidential Center was gratitude. Followed closely by awe.
What a blessing to this beautiful city—and to me.
That was the feeling that washed over my spirit as I stood in quiet awareness of how the Most High also gives gifts. Not simply the kind we unwrap, but the kind that help us recognize how the outer world reflects our inner world.
Whether the reflection belongs to a collective, a city, or an individual, it can serve as a confirmation of something deeper.
The Obama Presidential Center is a towering reflection of hope, courage, and resilience.
My God!
Yes We Can!
The Architecture of a Collective Vision
Looking at the structure's commanding architectural crown, I found myself seeing something beyond a building. I saw a monumental material sculpture, formed by human hands with unapologetically bold angles and seemingly imperfect geometry. Yet look beyond the outer surface, and an intentionality begins to reveal itself.
I was reminded of those early days of working with clay. The material itself has a language. Its form can be shaped, but its possibilities are not always immediately apparent. Sometimes, the beauty emerges through the process of working with it.
To me, the Center's architectural crown is an embodiment of the human experience, its form punctuated by powerful words set into its concrete structure. Words are seeds. They carry intention. They take root in the minds and hearts of those who encounter them, becoming ideas, beliefs, and eventually, action.
The seeds planted by heart-centered leaders can become the architecture of a collective future.
Here, vision and labor have coalesced into a monumental form that does more than tell the story of a man, his family, our country, Americans, and people everywhere. It feeds the collective spirit through what I think of as the Law of the Soul.
Moving upward through the exhibitions, each level offered another opportunity to reflect on the self-realized soul and the importance of holding on to what is eternal. To choose what nourishes the spirit rather than the ego. To remember that the quality of our inner soil ultimately defines our harvest.
One cannot walk through these stories of struggle, power, perseverance, and the witnessing of change without being moved. I saw tears in the eyes of several visitors at different points throughout the thoughtfully curated exhibitions, stories, and images.
Experiencing the exhibits at the Obama Center felt like a profound confirmation—a sign that my own work is tapping into the same wave, and collective timing of where we are right now as people. One comes away with a greater awareness of our indescribable capacity for divine connection, and of how compassion can purify the soul. These are some of the very same pillars that anchor my upcoming debut solo photography exhibition: “Human-Made: Dimensions in Light” .
President Obama's story carries seeds for everyone who walks through those doors. It invites reflection, challenges ignorance, and reminds us of the transformative power of conscious awareness.
This is not simply a place to observe history. It is a place to consider what history asks of us.
Where Vision Meets the Living World
Walking through the gardens, we witnessed dedicated caretakers mindfully pruning each stem with humility and reverence. There was something beautiful about watching this quiet, intentional tending of the land.
As we walked, ideas began flooding in about ways to expand upon the culinary program. I imagined horticulture and cooking classes that could be live-streamed, with surprise appearances by notable guests sharing a family recipe, remedies picked straight from the garden, or discussions on sustainability and environmental stewardship. Imagine the joy of watching Neal deGrasse Tyson break down the thermodynamics of sofrito while cooking up a beloved family Puerto Rican recipe. Now that’s a livestream worth tuning into.
My mind's eye switched on to full beam!
Our tour of the kitchen got Bill's brain firing, too. Then my sister's imagination kicked in, and suddenly it felt as though we had stepped right back into those early Urbanbelly development days—blending our individual strengths into one shared vision.
Our friend and guide laughed when my sister said, "She's in a flow state!" It was her way of checking whether my enthusiastic mindshare was becoming a little overwhelming for him. Something that has happened before when my creative energy and someone else's bandwidth aren't quite aligned.
But not this time.
He responded, "No way, I love the passion!"
And the ideas kept flowing with every new space we entered.
That's when you know a space has been designed with heart-centered leadership. It doesn't simply accommodate people. It activates them. It invites participation, imagination, and possibility. It makes room for the next idea to take root.
The Architecture of Becoming
Perhaps this is one of the most beautiful things about inspired design: it reminds us that we are never quite finished taking shape.
Just as clay responds to the hands that work with it, we respond to the environments, experiences, and ideas that touch our lives. But our evolution is not simply about being molded by external forces. It is also about becoming conscious of what we choose to embrace, what we choose to release, and what we choose to create.
There is a distinction between being shaped by the world and consciously participating in our own becoming.
To me, the Obama Presidential Center is an invitation to enter through attention. Much like “Human-Made: Dimensions in Light” aims to provide.
To free yourself.
To liberate your soul from the weight of historical struggles. To release what no longer serves, and to rest in awareness. To trust again in the divine order.
And perhaps, most importantly, to acknowledge, reclaim, and sovereignly govern the Law of your own Soul.
Because legacy is not only what we leave behind in the physical world.
It is also what we awaken in one another.
We are the clay. We are the sculptors. And somewhere beneath the beautiful complexity of the human experience, there is a divine architecture inviting us to become.
Legendary Architects
