Healing Arts Company
for
Somatic sessions, community rituals and festival healing spaces across the Northeast.
Building Third Places
The Healing Arts Company is a traveling healing center, a circle of somatic storytellers, and an abode for rest you don’t have to earn. Holistic practices and ethical considerations . Our long term vision aligns with efforts to rebuild community third places.
“We honor the labor you give to the world by offering a place where you owe nothing.”
Wellness Consulting · Retreats & Festivals · Community Media · Private Events [Upstate New York]
End of summer 2025. HOROSCOPES freshly dropped, new artist feature, fridge poetry, an ode to animal crossing, digital art, and more!
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HEALING ARTS COMPANY
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Gatherings, offerings, and ways to come home to yourself
Rest is your birthright.
Leisure is sacred.
Your body deserves pause.
Meet the Creatrix
My name is Lulu,
I bring a grounded holistic approach to the art of healing. You are the pilot and I am the voice, the transmission, from the watch tower guiding you home to yourself. I am two years into my residential carpentry apprenticeship. I have been a massage therapist for a decade, leaning into a wide range of modalities that inspire me to help those with chronic stress, autoimmune disorders, cancer, and more.
Carpentry and bodywork have taught me the same lesson from different directions: nothing worth building is rushed. Whether I’m sanding a board down to its grain or easing tension with shiatsu from a nervous system that’s been braced for years, the work is slow, attentive, and honest. I hold a New York massage therapy license and a degree in psychology, registered yoga teacher, and former martial artist.
I’m attentive to the bigger picture and meticulous about the details that support it. That’s how I approach a session, a gathering, and a frame wall alike.
Through The Healing Arts Company, I’m building the kinds of places I wish more people had: third places where rest isn’t a reward, stories are held in confidence, and touch is offered to replenish rather than to take. You’ll find me holding space at festivals and retreats across the Northeast, gathering our circle of Somatic Storytellers, and learning, one joint and one grit at a time, how to build shelter with my own two hands.
Nobody tells you how much of carpentry is sanding.
You picture the saw, the square, the satisfying thunk of a joint coming together. But a surprising share of the work is quieter than that: standing over a board, moving a block of grit back and forth, watching rough fibers turn to dust. Sixty grit, then one-twenty, then two-twenty. Each pass removes the marks the last one left behind, until the wood under your palm feels less like lumber and more like skin.
I've been thinking a lot lately about what that process has to teach us about healing.