Where the Makeup Chair & Yoga Mat Meet.

Yoga had a funny way of finding me.

I was working on the Amazon Prime show Beast Games in Toronto and struggling to slow down. If you’ve ever worked on large scale production, you know the pace — a million miles an hour, buckle up and go.

Hair & Makeup by me in Beast Games Season 1

A block from my condo, I found a local yoga studio. I started going almost every day. And slowly, something shifted. I had loved yoga since I was nineteen, practicing on and off over the years, but this time was different. It became the thing I looked forward to most — more than a night out. It was my reset. It was like ecstasy in my body.

I was always the last one to leave the room, lingering in the candlelit quiet, stretching a little longer while the soft music played, letting myself arrive before stepping back into the world.

One day — suddenly, clearly — an inner voice landed like a ton of bricks:

"When you get back to NYC, you’ll start yoga teacher training."

I didn’t question it.

I knew of one school through a NYC performance coach and trusted friend — someone who knew the city and studios of all kinds. I made the call. Training started four days after I returned to New York. There was one spot left at the world renowned YogaMaya in Chelsea.

Just like that, I paid $4,000, committed to ten months, and said yes.

Looking back, what I didn’t realize then was that yoga teaching felt natural to me because I had already been practicing the most important part of it for years.

— As a makeup artist.

Teaching Yoga in Williamsburg

The Same Skill, Different Rooms

Teaching yoga made something very clear to me.

Whether someone is on a mat or sitting in a makeup chair, before any pose is cued or any product touches skin, there’s a moment where someone often is holding a lot — anticipation, nerves, self-consciousness, excitement, pressure or a mix of multiple feelings. My role in both spaces is the same: to help them settle.

In yoga, that looks like pacing the class, watching breath, knowing when to speak and when silence is doing the work. It’s guiding without forcing. Inviting without pushing.

In the makeup chair, it’s no different.

A bride anxious for the day ahead, an actor booking their biggest role yet, a client saying, “I don’t usually wear makeup.” Someone about to be photographed, filmed, or seen in a way that feels vulnerable.

Before blending foundation or shaping brows, my work begins with presence.

Listening.

Creating a sense of connection and safety.

Helping someone arrive.

Why These Worlds Will Always Be Connected for Me

Yoga remains a heartfelt passion I hold lightly and lovingly.

Makeup artistry is my ride-or-die career, but they are similar in unexpected aspects.

Both ask for attention and presence.

Both require intuition.

Both are about timing, trust, and care.

Whether I’m teaching a class or preparing someone for a camera moment that matters, the intention is the same:

To help them arrive — in their body, in their face, in their life — before stepping forward.

Just like those yoga teachers in Toronto gave me the recharge to help me step into my busy work life, I am honored I get to offer the same now to you!

If you’ve ever sat in my makeup chair or taken one of my yoga classes maybe you’ve felt this overlap. And if you’re stepping into something meaningful — a shoot, a wedding, a moment of visibility — I’d be honored to hold that space with you.

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The loving light within me sees and honors the loving light within you.

xx Cami