And while we’re at it, let me age with humility as I realize over time how little we really know about anything. To keep on learning. Please let me foster a healthy curiosity. To stop dead in my tracks when I see a cool rock or a pretty sunrise. Let me try to move through life as if joy were the whole point of it. To remember to jump in puddles even with a heavy sack of worries and responsibilities on my back.

I can hear it, the sound of the stream making its way around the obstacle in the middle, water tripping over stones, rushing and gurgling as it lurches forward. Forging a new path instead of stopping.

Hope has holes in its pockets.

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

We all have creativity inside us. Even if you “can’t draw a stick figure” (can you hear my eyes rolling?). What I want people to understand is that creativity is not necessarily about creating a particular thing, but rather something that puts you in touch with another part of you. It helps you be more like who you are. It lets you live out loud.

Back in November, I shared that I had signed a lease on a space in the Franklin Arts Center. When I’ve allowed myself to daydream over the years, this is the kind of space I always imagined: a communal place filled with color and shared energy. Comforting in its creative clutter. Warm. Nurturing.

I’m reminded that I cannot do all things, and that the most meaningful things I can offer the world are the gifts and skills authentic to me, no matter how small. We all have things we’re good at, and the beauty of community is how those individual gifts come together to form something stronger than any one of us alone.

The pieces I have been putting in place over time, through grief and growth, abundance and drought, are leading me down a path that grows more and more beautiful with every step.

Lil fish studios will have a physical space!

What “I am for” is this. The color, community, friendship, joy…all of this. Forever. Amen.

The September issue of Felt Matters, a publication of International Feltmakers Association, was in my mailbox yesterday, and what a beautiful publication it is. Nice paper, rich photographs, and… my stones!

Mirror and magnify. Isn’t that the perfect way to describe it? How lucky are we who know how this feels.

I read recently that 45 minutes of art-making, regardless of skill or ability, significantly reduces stress hormones like cortisol. It was suggested that creativity be considered as an ingredient for a healthy life, alongside exercise, diet, and sleep. Humans are innately creative, and creating socially, that is, in the company of others, fosters connection and understanding. I don’t know about you, but I think the world would be better with more of that.

Stitched stones in the shop today!

Time in nature has always provided me with peace. It gives me the space I need to find clarity and makes me feel more connected to myself and the world around me. I was worried when I moved from the woods to town that I would be disconnected from nature, and by extension, my art.

“The quality of life is in proportion to the capacity for delight” “The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention” These were themes I have begun to understand as true for me, that dovetail with understandings I’ve gleaned from other reading and self-reflection.

I’ve recently read ‘Braiding Sweetgrass’ by Robin Wall Kimmerer for the first time. When I finished, I read it again, underlining and dog-earing to mark passages that were particularly meaningful to me.

In the Spring of 2023 I wrote a grant request to my regional arts council to ask for funds to help me develop my art practice. I hoped to make some large collages focused on pollinators.

I have learned so much.