Morocco
Nov 2027 Retreat
There's a valley in the Atlas Mountains where the land can't decide what it wants to be, so it becomes everything at once. Olive, orange, and lemon groves spilling down toward a river. Green fields. And then, above all of it, snow on the peaks. The Ourika Valley sits about forty-five minutes from Marrakech, close enough to reach without a saga, far enough that the noise falls away somewhere on the drive up. This is the part of Morocco people mean when they say a place changed them and can't quite say how. It asks very little of you. It just keeps handing you things to notice.
At the head of the valley, on a hilltop, sits a kasbah built from rammed earth, the old Berber way, so it looks like it grew out of the hill rather than landing on it. Inside there are rugs and collected objects and the kind of genuine, warm welcome no five-star checklist can manufacture. Picture slow mornings on a terrace with the peaks across from you, a camera in your hand, long walks down through the groves, real meals at a long table. A few unhurried days built around making things and noticing things, and the kind of connection that never happens on a tight schedule. Less performance. More presence. The same thing I chase in the desert, carried somewhere new.
iceland
july 2027 Retreat
After two unforgettable summers in Iceland, we are returning in 2027 to do it all over again. The first two retreats showed us exactly what this place does to a group of women: the long, light-filled days, the waterfalls and black sand beaches, the road trips that turn into the kind of conversations and belly laughs you carry home with you. Iceland has a way of holding you that is powerful and gentle at the same time, equal parts wild adventure and quiet softness, with room to be fully yourself without performing or proving anything. Watching friendships form so naturally and seeing women reconnect to their sense of wonder is the reason we keep coming back, and 2027 will be no different.
This summer retreat is for the woman who is ready to let the land lead. We will move through dramatic coastlines, glaciers, and geothermal waters, trading the noise of everyday life for shared awe, sing-a-longs in the car, and slow evenings spent taking it all in together. Spots are intentionally limited so the group stays small and the experience stays intimate, the way it has always been. Full details, dates, and the chance to claim your place are coming soon. If Iceland has been calling you, this is your sign to answer it.
joshua tree
apr 2027 retreat
The desert blooms before it burns. Come spring, Joshua Tree softens into something tender and brief. Ocotillo tipped in red, desert dandelions opening at first light, the wash of green that only the high desert gets to keep for a few short weeks. This is our second gathering at That Desert Space, and it lands in the season of beginnings. Six days of making things with the land while the land itself is making something new. Color pulled from stone and bloom. Long mornings that warm slowly. Wind that still does most of the talking, but gentler now.
When the door opened on the first retreat last fall, women came and made art from the desert and left with hearts rewilded by it. Spring is the other half of that story. The property has grown since then, every dollar from the first gathering poured back into the water systems, the kitchen, the firepit, into making this a place that can hold many more women for many more years. You're not stepping into something finished. You're stepping into something still becoming, on land that has been quietly waiting through the winter for exactly this. If the desert in bloom calls you, I'd love to have you here.
