Month: December 2025

creativity

I spent 2025 rebuilding

Christa Avampato
In 2025, I focused on what I could construct. It turns out, community is the strongest foundation. Photo by John Cameron on Unsplash.

Rather than make resolutions, I select a word each year to guide my thoughts and actions. In 2025, I chose “Rebuild.” Looking back at my post from January 1, 2025, I started the year meditating on the Mary Oliver quote: “Listen, are you breathing a little and calling it a life?” I realized I had been waiting for everything—more time, money, clarity, experience, validation—to finally do the things I wanted to do. I was waiting for permission that only I could give to myself.

In a world that often felt fractured and difficult, I wanted to focus on what I could construct. I spent 2025 building community, seeking advice, iterating, and lifting others up as I rose. This year had many days that broke me down, but it turns out that being broken down is just the first step of a remodel. Each time, I got up a little stronger and more intentional.

I worked hard to be the most generous person in the room, the best listener, and a truly collaborative partner. I couldn’t have done this alone, and I am deeply grateful to the mentors, friends, and all of you who sat in the “construction zone” with me.

I launched my Togetherhood weekly nature newsletter to share the solace I find in the outdoors, and teamed up with a wonderful group of creators to restart NYC’s Secrets & Lies. Both projects were born from the same goal: to ignite curiosity, wonder, and a sense of belonging in a world that can sometimes feel lonely. Beyond my own projects, I worked alongside others as a volunteer with Muddy Paws Rescue and City Harvest to provide safety and care for dogs, people, and the planet.

Amidst the busyness, I kept up with foreign language learning, indulged my love for baking and cooking, and looked after my health. I also spent a lot of quiet time honing my storytelling in ways I didn’t expect; I have some good news and lessons learned to share on that front in January.

Going into 2026, I’m excited to take everything I rebuilt this year and carry it further. More on that tomorrow. Wishing you and yours a bright, happy, and healthy new year.

creativity

Someday is Today: Moving Into the New Year Without Fear

Christa Avampato

In November 2025, a college friend of mine passed away. He was just two years older than me. He had recently decided to leave his long-term job, where he’d been very successful, to finally pursue a passion project in this next season of his life. Six months later, he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Eighteen months after that, he was gone. He was so young, and his battle was both short and harrowing.

If you could know how and when your life would end, would you want to know? And what would you do with that information? How might you live differently when you know the end?

Start at the End

When I write anything, I either write backwards or, at least, with the end in mind. That’s also how I live life—knowing just how precious it always is and knowing that it may very well be much shorter than I’d like.

This isn’t just a somber reflection; it’s a necessary call to action. I recently heard an interview with the actor Minnie Driver where she said: “Don’t wait. For anything. What are you waiting for? Go live! Right now!” I feel that in my bones. That element of time is always front of mind for me. Maybe it’s a bit too front of mind sometimes, but in my opinion, that’s better than not thinking of it at all.

The Gift of “Extra” Time

I know how short life can be. I know how short my life almost was while I was going through cancer treatment and all the complications I faced. Because of that, I know this is all “extra.” I know I’m lucky to be here at all, and lucky to be healthy and able-bodied.

So, I don’t wait. I’m doing my passion projects now. I spend my time exactly the way I want and with whom I want. I don’t care about titles and money and prestige. Those things were meaningless when I was lying in a hospital bed surrounded by the whirring of breathing machines hoping to live to see the sunrise the next day.

All I wanted then was my dog and my friends. That’s it. That’s all I want now, too. Instead of chasing a title, I choose work that brings me joy. Instead of prestige, I choose the creative projects that might never make a dime but make me feel alive.

The Heartbreaking Truth

Since that hospital stay, my soul dog and several of my friends and family members have passed away. The time with them was too brief. We never, ever get enough time with those we love. That is the powerful and heartbreaking truth of life: It is never long enough, no matter how long it is.

My wish for all of us as we head into a new year is that we don’t wait another second to live a life we love. Do exactly what you want to do right now and every day you have. Don’t wait on passion projects. Don’t wait on love—for yourself, the beings you care about, and your community.

Don’t wait for “someday.” None of us have that luxury.

Someday is today.

creativity

My winter wish

Christa Avampato
The moon and the stars through the trees. Image by Christa Avampato.

Tonight, as we usher in the longest night of 2025, may we give ourselves the permission and grace to rest. Yes, the light begins to return slowly and surely as we move forward. But before us tonight lies the gift of darkness.

It is a time for dreaming, for reflecting, for remembering. It allows the light to shine brightest—from stars, from the moon, and from the people around us. Just as stars require the dark to be seen, we often find the best in others and ourselves during the darkest times. When confronted with difficulty, we rise to help each other.

We cannot get through this life alone. Relationships are the center of everything. Love is the center of everything.

This winter, I wish you peace. As the daylight grows, I hope the light within you and the light within me grows, too.

creativity

The West Coast Has Underwater Forests. NYC Could Have Underwater Farms.

Christa Avampato
Sugar kelp can grow in the waters around NYC, and thrives during the cold winter months

I recently read a fascinating piece in Smithsonian Magazine about the “underwater forests” returning to life off the coast of California. It details the restoration of Giant Kelp—towering, 100-foot strands that form cathedrals of biodiversity, sequester carbon, and shelter marine life.

It’s an inspiring success story of ecological recovery. But as I read about the Chumash people and marine biologists working together in the Pacific, I couldn’t help but ask a question closer to home: Could we apply this to the waters of New York City?

The answer is a resounding yes—but it looks a little different here. And it’s already beginning.

Different Coast, Different Kelp

In California, the focus is on restoration: bringing back wild Giant Kelp forests that have been decimated by urchins and climate change.

In New York and the broader Northeast, our opportunity lies in regenerative ocean farming. We don’t have the deep-water Giant Kelp; we have Sugar Kelp (Saccharina latissima). This golden-brown algae is shorter, but it is a powerhouse. It thrives in our cold winter waters—growing rapidly when most marine life is dormant—and acts as a “scrubbing brush” for our harbors.

Sugar Kelp absorbs carbon dioxide (fighting ocean acidification) and, crucially for NYC, it soaks up excess nitrogen from urban runoff, which is the main driver of harmful algae blooms.

We aren’t just “restoring” nature here; we are building a blue economy. Here are the local pioneers turning this idea into reality right now.

1. The Indigenous Lead: Shinnecock Kelp Farmers

Just as the Chumash people are leading efforts in California, the Shinnecock Indian Nation is leading the way on Long Island. The Shinnecock Kelp Farmers are a multi-generational collective of Indigenous women leveraging thousands of years of traditional ecological knowledge to heal the water.

They have established the first Indigenous-owned kelp farm on the East Coast in Shinnecock Bay. Their work proves that kelp isn’t just a crop; it’s a tool for sovereignty and survival, actively filtering the waters that sustain their community.

2. The Science: It Works in the East River

You might think kelp needs pristine, open ocean to survive. Think again.

Researchers Dr. Christopher Gobler and Mike Doall from Stony Brook University have been running pilot studies to see if kelp could survive the urban waters of the East River. The results were surprising: the kelp didn’t just survive; in some cases, it grew better in the nutrient-rich waters of the harbor than in cleaner, deeper waters. This suggests that NYC’s “working waterfront” could double as a biological filtration system.

3. The Pioneers: Breaking the Regulatory Barrier

The technology exists, but the permits have been the hard part. The industry is so new that New York State didn’t have a regulatory framework for it until very recently.

In 2023, Violet Cove Oyster Co., led by former WNBA star Susan Wicks, secured the first-ever commercial permit to grow kelp in New York state waters (Moriches Bay). It took years of advocacy to get there. Her success paves the way for oyster farmers across the region to become “multitrophic” farmers—growing shellfish and seaweed together to maximize the environmental benefit.

The Vision for a “Blue” NYC

Organizations like GreenWave are already training the next generation of ocean farmers, with a goal of creating thousands of jobs. Imagine a future where the New York harbor isn’t just a transit lane for ferries and cargo, but a grid of regenerative farms.

These farms would provide local food, sustainable fertilizer, and bioplastics, all while cleaning the water and capturing carbon.

California’s underwater forests are a reminder of nature’s resilience. NYC’s underwater farms could be a testament to our innovation. The seeds (or rather, the spores) have been planted. Now, we just need to support the regulations and organizations that will let them grow.

creativity

Baking up NYC history in cookie form

Christa Avampato

For the December NYC’s Secrets & Lies storytelling show at the South Street Seaport Museum, I baked 300+ cookies for our guests. All the recipes had a historical backstory and a maritime connection to match the theme of our show and the beautiful venue.

I’ve gotten messages asking for the recipes and the stories behind them, so here they are! Swipe through the photos to find the recipe cards and the history behind each cookie.

I hope you enjoy baking up a bit of NYC history with:

– The Captain’s Lie (New Amsterdam Lemon Jumbles)

– Sweet Corruption (Spiced Molasses Gingerbread)

– The Original Hustle (Dutch Shortbread Trefoils a la the Girl Scouts)

Since it’s cookie season, I’d love to see your baking pics! Happy baking! ❄️

creativity

NYC’s Secrets & Lies: The Power of Partnership and Resilience in Live Events

Christa Avampato
Ashley Semrick, Erin Hunkemoeller, Carla Katz, and Christa Avampato

I’m proud to share that the NYC’s Secrets & Lies holiday show this week about secret NYC maritime history at the South Street Seaport Museum was a huge success! I’m still GLOWING from all the good cheer. ✨️

This show is a dream passion project for me, and I feel so lucky to do this work. The phenomenal storytellers, the engaged and joyful audience, and the perfect museum partner team and venue made for such a special holiday celebration. I’m beyond grateful to everyone who came out to the show.

We had a packed house that enjoyed a special evening of history and stories, complete with snack table filled with historically accurate treats that all had a backstory! This event was our first location-based event; all the stories were thematically linked to the space where we performed creating an immersive environment where the audience didn’t just hear the stories but could feel them.

It was also a powerful case study in the critical value of collaboration. Working with the Seaport Museum team was seamless, proving that when partners share a clear vision, we can create an immersive meaningful experience for our audience that stays with them long after the show ends.

Live events are a masterclass in crisis management. As the creator and producer, successfully navigating the unexpected is part of the job description. Though it might sound crazy to some, this is what I love about producing: problem-solving, thinking on my feet, and taking care of everyone involved in making the show possible. The ultimate reward is delivering a high-quality experience for the audience and seeing the talented storytellers shine.

A little behind-the-scenes secret – I was more nervous about this show than any show we’ve ever done. Between my back injury, the cookie baking, a brand new venue with a brand new partner, this being our first location-based show, and a last minute emergency I didn’t expect, my natural stage fright was flying high. But through collaboration and partnership and joy, it all worked out. Once I focused solely on the storytellers, our audience, and our museum partner, the nerves finally faded. We are always stronger and better together.🫶

And good news (a la Buddy the Elf!): I saw a dachshund outside the museum as I arrived and another dachshund outside the museum on my way home. My Phinny is always with me!🐾

Thank you again to the phenomenal team, the storytellers, and everyone who came out to support live storytelling and New York history. This is proof that focused passion and strong partnerships can achieve anything!

Below are some photos from the show. Happy Holidays!

creativity

My back, my base, my safe space

Christa Avampato
Me learning to take care of me

3 weeks ago, I hurt my back volunteering at a dog adoption event. Old shoes. 8 hours standing on concrete in cold weather. Lifting things far too heavy for me to lift alone and lifting them incorrectly. Anti-cancer meds for 5 years that impact my joints, muscles, and bones. A strenuous workout 2 days before. A big grocery shop and carry that evening. It was a recipe for a back emergency, and I’d served it up to myself like a master of disaster.

Healing isn’t linear; it’s a continuum. The last few weeks have been a bumpy road. I went to my oncology appointment on Tuesday. (I go every 3 months to see my team, get bloodwork, and get a shot and infusion.) I was in the waiting room for 30 minutes and wondered why I hadn’t been called for my bloodwork yet. They forgot to tell me I needed to go to a different floor. I was worried all my appointments would now be delayed so I grabbed my bag in a hurry and threw my back into a spasm. I yelped.

Then of course my blood pressure and one of my blood levels that’s a marker for muscle damage was slightly elevated (weeks of back pain will do that.) With great empathy and understanding, my doctor gave me muscle relaxers. She said to come back in a month to recheck that blood level. “I’m not at all worried, Christa,” she said. “But I know you and I know you’ll worry so we’ll recheck for your peace of mind.”

When I got home, I sunk into a warm bath and cried because my back hurt; I hate the side effects of my meds; I miss my dog, so much of life feels unfair and out of my control. Sometimes it all feels like a house of cards; one shakes and the tower falters. So, I let it crash around me, shattering.

I pulled myself together and got out of the tub. A few minutes later the full extent of the spasm really kicked in. The pain surged to a frightening level-10/10– like my body was breaking. I gobbled the muscle relaxer and climbed into bed, praying it would kick in. I tried to empty my mind and count my blessings. Then I just let the thoughts come without trying to direct them. I had survived so many dark nights before. Surely this couldn’t be as bad as the worst of them. I woke up 10 hours later. Stiff but the terrifying knot in my back was gone, replaced with a dull ache.

For the next few days, the pain kept moving around my back. My body was trying to re-center herself. Trying to protect me while also asking my mind for help. I was so afraid I’d never feel better. Now would I always be a person with a bad back?

I called my friend, Alex, which I often do when I don’t know what to do. As always, she talked me down off the ledge. It turns out I don’t have a bad back, I had a battered back. Alex assured me all my fears were normal. Get yourself a friend like Alex. Learning to move in a different and ever-changing body requires effort. With this injury, my mind and body were doing the necessary work. When we got off the phone, my back felt better. The next day it felt even better. I turned the corner thanks to muscle relaxers, heat therapy, massage, a sauna visit, stretching, time, and Alex. Healing isn’t a solo sport; it’s as much about community as it is about medicine.

Our back is the foundation of our health and ability to move, literally and figuratively. When the foundation falters, everything built on top of it shifts. We have to maintain the foundation. Castles in the air don’t rise. They need a stable base, and so do we. Rest, heat, stretch, repeat until the healing’s complete.

My back showed me I’ve been holding myself back on a number of fronts, and I’m done doing that. As my therapist, Brian, has told me many times, our injuries often come to hone us, not harm us. It’s worth the time and energy to do this fundamental work. We are worthy of our own time, attention, and care.  

creativity

Why I’m taking “Secrets & Lies” to San Francisco: Discussing climate disinformation and the power of storytelling on the Earthworks podcast

Christa Avampato
Me at home in Brooklyn (and I took that photo behind me of a branch frosted with ice!)

I am so honored to be the first guest on Marina Psaros‘s new podcast, Earthworks.

We sat down to talk about two things that are deeply personal to me: the urgency of climate action and the power of a good story. Specifically, we discussed how I relaunched my live storytelling game show, NYC’s Secrets & Lies, at the Climate Group‘s Climate Week NYC this year.

Why mix storytelling with climate science? My goal has always been to combat misinformation and disinformation, particularly in climate. In a world of noise, storytelling promotes critical thinking and builds the kind of community and critical thinking we need to tackle big challenges. When we pique someone’s curiosity and wonder, which is what I do with the show and secret history, that encourages the audience want to take action and join a movement.

Big News: We are going to the West Coast! Marina actually reached out to me via LinkedIn when she saw my original post about the show at Climate Week NYC. That one connection has sparked a new plan: We are working to bring NYC’s Secrets & Lies (as San Francisco’s Secrets & Lies!) to SF Climate Week in San Francisco in April 2026!

Listen to our Earthworks episode here: https://www.marinapsaros.com/earthworks/christaavampato

I’d love to hear what you think about the intersection of history, nature, and storytelling. And to my friends in the Bay Area—stay tuned. We can’t wait to see you and tell stories together!