list / self compassion / selflove

return.

you are allowed to be free you are allowed to be unbothered you are allowed to choose what and who you allow access to you you are allowed to be safe you are allowed to heal you are allowed to be peaceful and self affirming you are allowed to be sovereign and holy as you are you are allowed to […]

creative practice / writing

summer things

this summer has been fun/full. of all the. things. mostly parenting. plants and a good dose of art/making. it’s been clumsy and chaotic affair but deliciously human. gratitude permeates the land/me.

creative practice

botanical printing

playing around with the gelli plate. this is not my first time botanical printing or gel plating but recently inspired by Laura Horn’s YouTube. A quick way to play before lunch.

creative practice / self compassion

slowly now

the summer is summering.i am sipping lots of hibicus tea and sweeping the floors more than I ever thought possible until I give up and realize I am the only one standing by the broom. it’s peak stone fruit season. I dream of pies, tarts and crumbles but settle for eating plums and peaches cut up and in the kid’s […]

creative practice / selflove

nature as nurturer

it’s high key high summer. all of the town (and surrounding areas) are summering hard. I have adjusted my expectations for summer many times. it’s always a shock that I can only do so much in a given day and yet it is freeing. I am learning so much on the ground as a mother, a parent, a partner and […]

creative practice / photography / self compassion

finding a way

finding a way to thrive nestle your body in the cracks and allow your own feet to root reaching for the goodness beyond knowing that gives a soul rest the truth is it’s so easy to get wrapped in others but you can’t bloom if you don’t know who you are let the sun turn in you and remind you […]

creative practice / writing

showing up softly

the sun ebbs but flows feeling like a chickadee fluttering in the oregano still tasting the oil in my own pores wanting the soft warmth to reveal me and the chicory flowers to forgive me for doubting they would ever bloom