Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Asami Green. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Hi Asami, thanks for joining us today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?

Every piece of art I create comes from a place of deep intention and heart. It’s not just about colors and shapes—it’s about energy, healing, and connection. As a Reiki Master and Intuitive Artist, I infuse each piece with peaceful, uplifting energy designed to support your personal journey. My art acts like a gentle bridge between your outer world and your inner self, encouraging you to slow down, breathe, and tune in. It’s meant to help open your heart, expand your awareness, and guide you back to the quiet wisdom already inside you.

One of my recent projects, a mural called Spirit at Mandira in Fairfield, CT, is especially close to my heart. It was created as a visual sanctuary—a reminder that healing is not a race, but a deeply personal journey that unfolds at its own rhythm. The mural is inspired by the elemental symbol of spirit, which weaves through the piece as a gentle guide, inviting you to step into your own healing process in your own time. Whether you’re standing in front of the mural, or bringing one of my pieces into your home, the intention is the same: to offer a space of peace, inspiration, and support. We all walk different paths, but healing connects us—and through my art, I hope to inspire and guide your path and remind you that your journey is sacred.

Asami, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

Sixteen years ago, life shifted in a way I never expected. I became a single mother overnight, navigating the world with two young daughters and a heart full of questions. The life we had known unraveled, and I found myself standing at the edge of an unknown path—uncertain, but determined. In the midst of the changes, I learned how to keep moving forward, even when I didn’t have a clear map. What I didn’t know then was that this moment would become the doorway to everything I was meant to become.

At first, I lived in what I now call survival mode. Doing what needed to be done, tending to my daughters with quiet strength, and carrying on through the motions of everyday life. But within me, there was a quiet yearning—for healing, for meaning, for something more than just getting through. That whisper grew louder over time, asking me to pause, to feel, to rediscover myself beyond the roles I had come to know.

Slowly, I began listening.

I returned to art, not as a profession or project, but as a private sanctuary. I painted in the stillness, giving color to emotions I couldn’t yet name. Through these moments, I touched the edges of my own spirit—grieving, yes, but also wise, resilient, and waiting to emerge. What started as a quiet refuge became a sacred practice of self-discovery. I realized I wasn’t just painting—I was remembering who I was.

This journey led me to uncover my ikigai, my reason for being. But it asked for honesty and vulnerability. I had to admit that I was tired of hiding—that behind my strength was a deep longing to be seen, truly and fully. I began to understand that healing wasn’t something to chase—it was something to allow.

Step by step, I let myself be visible—guiding a small Visions of Healing workshop here, sharing an art piece there, each moment a gentle unfolding of my truth. Each moment felt tender and raw, but also alive. I had spent so long keeping myself safe, that learning to ask for help, to receive support, to trust others with my truth felt like a brave new language. And in that openness, something quietly profound occurred—what touched people most wasn’t the refinement, but the honesty shining through.

At exhibitions, I watched strangers weep before my paintings. They weren’t just seeing my story—they were feeling their own. That was when I truly understood the power of creation as a bridge between souls. My creations had taken on a life of their own—touching others in places words couldn’t reach, offering space to feel deeply and begin to heal.

Through all of this, I’ve learned to love myself—not in perfection, but in presence. I’ve embraced my femininity, my fluid creativity, and my deep desire to inspire. I’ve shared openly with my daughters, letting them see not just the woman who kept going, but the one who softened, who listened, who grew. They are now soulful young women, and I see in them the ripples of this journey—strength, grace, and a deep knowing of who they are.

Today, I teach workshops, create mindful art, and hold space for others because I’ve walked through the fire and learned how to dance with the ashes. My work is not just expression—it is alchemy. It is healing. It is a quiet revolution of coming home to ourselves.

My hope is to be a gentle mirror for others—to reflect back their light, even in the moments they feel dimmed. I believe we each carry a sacred purpose, and that by standing in our truth, we give others permission to do the same.

We are not here to simply endure.
We are here to create, to connect, to awaken.

And so I continue—heart open, hands covered in paint, soul attuned to the sacred rhythm of becoming.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

The most rewarding aspect of being an artist or creative, to me, is the sacred dance of transformation—both within myself and in those who encounter my work. There is a deep magic in weaving light and shadow into something tangible, something that speaks beyond words. When my art touches a soul, when it opens a door for someone to feel, to remember, to heal—that is a blessing beyond measure. It’s not about perfection or applause, but about connection: the silent recognition that we are all on a journey of becoming, and through creativity, we offer each other a mirror, a lantern, a hand to hold. In that shared space of vulnerability and beauty, I find endless purpose and profound joy.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the most profound lessons I had to unlearn was the belief that I needed to hide my true self to be accepted or to succeed. For years, I clung to old habits of perfectionism, self-judgment, and striving—carrying the weight of expectations from myself and others. Vulnerability felt like a risk, so I built walls to protect my heart, not realizing those walls also blocked my authentic light.

The backstory is woven through my journey of loss, healing, and becoming a mother and artist. In those early days, survival required strength, often the kind we associate with the masculine energy: doing, pushing, controlling. But over time, I recognized that balance was missing. I needed to invite softness, intuition, and presence—the feminine energies that nurture and flow.

Unlearning meant shedding harsh judgments, both from within and from the voices I had internalized. It was a gradual unfolding into self-compassion and trust. I learned to be present, to breathe into the moment instead of getting lost in the echoes of the past or the anxieties of the future.

This ongoing dance between my masculine and feminine energies, between doing and being, has brought me closer to my authentic self—a self that shines brightest when grounded in presence, vulnerability, and acceptance. It’s a lesson in freedom, in love, and in the beautiful alchemy of living fully here and now.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.asamigreen.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/asami.green/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/asami-green-437a4232/

Image Credits

All photos and images by Asami Green