Sitting down and scrolling through instagram, you may have come across a writer under the name of Rainbow Salt. Pouring words out into the cosmos that dive deep into love and loss, joy and regret and empowerment, Bianca's words leave a trail of goosebumps across your skin and the gentle knowing that you are not alone. Encapsulating feelings and emotions, that pull on the heart strings of the reader, she is one of my favorite writers and there is always a sweet resonance, as if she had lived through my own experiences and penned them to paper.

What is the first book you ever read?

I truly can’t remember the first book I ever read. I was touted as the child with her nose in a book, so there were a lot of them while I was growing up. However, one of the books that has always stuck with me, one of the books that has deeply moved me even to this day, is Letters To Vera by Vladimir Nabokov. When I first read Nabokov’s letters to his wife, I was reminded that there were others out there with a heart like mine, I was reminded that there were people who lived life feeling intense love, and that they were receptive of that. Nabokov let it fuel his writing, and that inspired me to let what I felt do the same.

One of my favorite lines from the book “You came into my life — not as one comes to visit, but as one comes to a kingdom where all the rivers have been waiting for your reflection, all the roads, for your steps.”

Do you have a ritual for creativity and inspiration?

If there is one thing I have learned about creativity, and inspiration, it is that sometimes it blooms within you during the most unconventional times. I used to think that inspiration could be found through strict dedication to a routine. I thought that if I just woke up at X time, and wrote for Y hours, I would always have a beautiful page of words strung together afterwards. But throughout the years, I have found that art doesn’t work that way. It cannot be forced. You simply just have to be a channel for what is within you.

So, when it comes to getting the writing out of me, I always say this “If you want it to come, you must get out of your head, and into your body.” I remind myself that sometimes the best way to create is to stop forcing the creation, and to simply just embrace the flow that comes from being completely immersed in certain moments in time. I encourage myself to get out of my head, and into nature, or into a state of living that puts no pressure on the words, but rather, inspires the feeling. For me, music has always been a catalyst for this. To sit with a song that makes something deep within me ache, and bubble over with hope at the same time, is to shake inspiration from my bones. To jump into the ocean and lose track of time, is to shake inspiration from my bones. For others, flow could be achieved by painting, by singing, by running, etc. Whatever brings you back home to yourself — that is what I chase, and that is what always inspires the words.

Who do you look up to?

I look up to people who care. I look up to those who stay messy-hearted in a world that may not always be kind to them. I look up to people who are doing whatever they have to do to make it to tomorrow — the people who get up in the morning when they do not want to, the people who face what is scarred within them, the people who are working every single day to be gentle and soft with themselves when they have been given every reason to harden. I look up to the people who believe in something hopeful; people who feel everything intensely, and allow themselves to feel that way. I look up to people who shout love from rooftops, who share their hearts with the world. I look up to anyone who is fighting — fighting to be better, fighting to heal even when it hurts, fighting to believe with everything they have within themselves that they have purpose here, and that they belong here, and that they deserve to take up space. I know how much courage it takes to be that kind of person, how much courage it takes to keep going. I respect it so much.

What is your favorite quote or piece of poetry?

“In your place, if there is pain, nurse it. And if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out. Don’t be brutal with it. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster, that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything ― what a waste! ” — André Aciman

What is your favorite piece you have ever written?

I think one of my favorites would be this one I wrote last year:

“This is me moving on. This is me accepting that sometimes beautiful things end. This is me understanding that there is nothing I can say, or do, to fix that. This is me coming to terms with the fact that sometimes leaving is an act of love, too. That sometimes you have to walk away from something soft and hauntingly real, that sometimes hearts don’t align. But this is me accepting that endings don’t have to be messy. This is me understanding how incredible it really is — that for a moment in time, in a world of billions, two strangers were in the right place, at the right time, and something transpired between them. This is my heart swelling with the thought — that at one point in time, we were the lucky ones. At one point in time, we beat the odds.”

What has been your biggest lesson?

When you confront the ache, when you feel it, when you befriend it, not just emotionally, but physically — when you deeply, deeply allow yourself to let it wash over you, it can no longer control you. It can only pass through you. I have learned that this is truly the most beautifully, difficult thing to do in life — to not be reactive to whatever it is you are going through, but rather, to be accepting, and understanding of it. To call it by its name, to see it for what it is, and to not hide it, or bury it, or sweep it under the rug, but to fully immerse yourself in it. Whatever it is, whether it is sadness, or hurt, or confusion, or loss, or something else, you cannot heal it if you do not acknowledge it. You cannot heal it if you do not feel it.

What is your definition of a WYLDE WOMAN?

To me, a WYLDE WOMAN is a woman who has cracked herself open. She bares her soul. She trusts her heart, she protects it and stands up for it, she shares it in everything she does. A WYLDE WOMAN understands that beauty requires contrast, she knows that life will always exist in two dimensions, that there will always be the hopeful moments, and there will always be the haunted moments, though she embraces them equally. She knows that they all grow her, she knows that they all round her out and weather her in ways that teach her how to be both soft and strong. A WYLDE WOMAN has a heart that is pinned to her sleeve. It beats outside of her body. It craves connection, intimacy, full blown immersion in life and human beings, and it stays that way no matter what she has been through. A WYLDE WOMAN knows that she deserves to take up space, she knows that she has purpose here. She is rooted. A WYLDE WOMAN is a woman who believes, with every inch of her patchwork heart, that she belongs to herself.

What would your advice be to young girls?

Remember — the Universe gave up celestial pieces of itself to craft you. So much had to conspire in order for you to be here. So be here. Be here, and be exactly who you want to be. Create the art you want to create. Speak your heart into existence. Bloom where you are planted. Dig and dig and dig into the core of your passion, and hold on to whatever ignites something inside of you, hold onto whatever stirs your soul. Get to know yourself, and own it; never apologize for the way your heart beats against your chest. Never apologize for taking up space. Just be here. Just be here and remember — you were bred from the crashing, and folding of the Universe into itself. Life may be messy, but you were born from a chaos that existed between stars. The same energy flows through you. Turn it into art. Turn it into strength. Turn it into beauty, like it turned itself into you.