I have found myself puttering around during the day more often than usual.  I’m still productive and have plenty to show for my time, but I’m not working with my usual intensity and purpose.  After months of big things…sudden homeschooling, adjusting to quarantine and life during a pandemic, home projects, writing a book, selling a paint line, launches, and deadlines, I find that I am craving a slower pace.  I know so many of you are feeling the same sort of fatigue that I am after running your own gauntlet of challenges and stressors that have presented themselves this year. I wasn’t going to put up a post today, because the world feels noisy right now and it really doesn’t need more words.  But as I was working in my studio, I caught myself admiring the beauty in simple things… A tangled mess of ribbons and hand-cut vintage fabrics in

I was planning to share my dreams and goals for the entire year, but that seemed like overkill.  Let’s just do this one month at a time, slow and steady, with long-term results in mind. I don’t have a word of the year, but a phrase… “Do it for your future self.” It’s so, so easy to do things for the me-right-now.  I’d rather sleep in than start a healthy morning routine.  I’d rather eat what I want than make intentional choices to fuel my body.  I’d rather skip the walk or the shoulder exercises in favor of doing something more creative.  I’d rather buy this thing now than wait to see if it’s something I really want or need. But future me always wishes I did the opposite.  The future me never appreciates that I indulged on one more piece of cake.  The future me never wishes I watched

The first few days after my surgery was tough in some ways, but in one way, I was sort of enjoying it.  It was a forced rest.  I couldn’t do very basic things that were staples in my line of work…typing, writing, painting, holding a camera.  The things that felt safe, normal, and routine were temporarily not options.  I rested in that for the first couple of weeks, a part of me accepting the permission to sit and binge-watch old seasons of Survivor all day.  A part of me was thankful that I could ignore my inbox and excuse myself from posting on my blog and social media regularly. A couple of weeks out, I started feeling better and set the expectation for myself to jump back into the everyday tasks.  Writing posts and e-mails with dictation was unexpectedly frustrating and I struggled to compose posts verbally instead of letting