Zoe Nightingale

I met Skylove Solei at a private sound healing that featured water beds with the instruments hooked up to giant bass speakers that were UNDER the water beds so the vibrations literally blew open your third eye and blasted you into outer space. Sound crazy? IT WAS. It was at the Pyramids of Chi in Bali, a sacred hippie dippie next level yoga compound where people of all walks of life (as long as they are wealthy) come to harness their root chakras. Sometimes, when I write words like this, I feel like I've been abducted by yoga aliens and they are in fact now typing for me. He was all angles, all muscle, lean and mean and only dresses in the kind of fancy drapey white Tulumenti robes that is usually reserved for people who like to drink Kool Aid in group settings. He seemed to glide about the room. I could never hear his footsteps. He had a heart wrenching singing voice, and could play literally every instrument I've every seen at once time. He was cool as a cucumber, and I wanted to know everything about him.